
Rnnk . 1 5t^ 4- 








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1852. 



<:>A^P^ ^ti-'-^ ' ^^ 




I 

'2^Tdp3cT. T'erslsiT^ "^ersUr), 



THE 



FABLES OF PILPAY. 



SuKOTHS Sllttstratinns, 



THOMAS D. SCOTT. 



" Allegories, when well chosen, are like so many Tracks of Light in i 
Discourse, that make every thing about them clear and beautiful."— 
Addison, 




E. LUMLEY, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, 

BLOOMSBUKY SQUAEE. 



MDCCCLII. 



The life of Pilpay is buried in great obscu- 
rity, and the little that is known of him is not 
much to be relied upon. According to some, 
he is supposed to have been an Indian Bramin, 
governor of a part of Hindostan, and minister 
of Dabschelim, a powerful Eastern monarch, 
who reigned many years before the birth of 
Christ : others treat his existence as fabulous ; 
and in this light it is considered by Robertson, 
who has the following note in his disquisition 
on Ancient India: — "To Mr. Wilkins we are 
indebted for Heeto-padeSy or Amiable Instruc- 
tion^ in a series of connected fables, inter- 
spersed with moral, prudential, and political 
maxims. This work is in such high esteem 
throughout the East, that it has been trans- 
lated into every language spoken there. It did 
not escape the notice of the Emperor Abker : 
attentive to everything that could contribute 
to promote useful knowledge, he directed his 
Vizier, Abul Fuzel, to put it into a style suited 
to all capacities, and to illustrate the obscure 
passages in it ; which he accordingly did, and 
gave it the title of The Criterion of Wisdom. 
At length these Fables made their way into 
Europe; and have been circulated there, with 



IV 

additions and alterations, under the names of 
Pilpay and jEsop.'' 

Of a work which has been translated into so 
many languages, commendation now would be 
superfluous. La Fontaine acknowledges his 
obligations to it in the preface to his Fables : 
"* Seulement je dirai, par reconnoissance, que 
j'en dois la plus grande partie a Pilpay, sage 
Indien. Son livre a ete traduit en toutes les 
langues." 

It would be useless in this place to enter 
further into the controversy : those who wish 
for more information on the subject, may con- 
sult Galland's Life of our Author. 

It may be added, however, that Massinger 
and Beaumont and Fletcher have borrowed 
from the story of the Dervise and the Thief; 
the first in his play of The Guardian^ and the 
latter in the tragi-comedy of Women Pleased. 

May, 1818. 



GENERAL HEADS. 



PAGE 

Introduction ........ 1 

CHAPTER I. 
Fortune favours the Bold ...... 7 

CHAPTER II. 

That we ought to avoid the Insinuations of Flatterers 
and Backbiters . . . . . . .43 

CHAPTER III. 

That the Wicked come to an ill End . . . .136 

CHAPTER IV. 

How we ought to make Choice of Friends, and what 
Advantage may be reaped from their Conversation . 180 

CHAPTER V. 

That we ought always to distrust our Enemies, and be, 
if possible, perfectly informed of whatever passes 
among them ........ 215 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

What gave Occasion to the writing of this Book, and by 
whom it was composed ...... 1 

CHAPTER I. 

The Story of Dabschelim and Pilpay .... 7 

Fable I. 
The travelling Pigeon . . . . . .18 

Fable II. 
The Falcon and the Raven . , . . . .26 

Fable III. 
The greedy and ambitious Cat ..... 28 

Fable IV. 

The poor Man who became a great King ... 33 

Fable V. 
The Leopard and the Lion . . . . .37 



CHAPTER II. 



Fable I. 
The Merchant and his Lewd Children . . .43 



CONTENTS. VII 

PAGE 
Fable II. 

The King and his Two Sons 46 

Fable III. 
The Dervise, the Falcon, and the Raven . . .49 

Fable IV. 
The Countryman and several Rats . . . .51 

Fable V. 
The Carpenter and the Ape ..... 56 

Fable VI. 
The two Travellers, and the Lion carved in Stone . 57 

Fable VII. 
The Fox and the Hen 66 

Fable VIII. 
The Dervise that left his Habitation . . . .71 

Fable IX. 
The Sparrow and the Sparrow-hawk . . . .80 

Fable X. 
The King who, from a savage Tyrant, became benign and 
just 83 

Fable XI. 
A Raven, a Fox, and a Serpent 85 

Fable XII. 
The Crane and the Cray-fish 86 

Fable XIII. 
The Rabbit, the Fox, and the Wolf .... 90 



VIll CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
Fable XIV, 

The Lion and the Rabbit 93 

Fable XV. 

The two Fishermen and the three Fishes ... 98 

Fable XVL 
The Scorpion and the Tortoise 100 

Fable XVII. 
The Falcon and the Hen 106 

Fable XVIII. 
The Nightingale and the Countryman . . . .108 

Fable XIX. 
The Hunter, the Fox, and the Leopard . . .110 

Fable XX. 
The Wolf, the Fox, the Raven, and the Camel . . Ill 

Fable XXI. 
The Angel, Ruler of the Sea, and two Birds called 
Gerandi 118 

Fable XXII. 
The Tortoise and two Ducks . . . . .119 

Fable XXIII. 
Two young Merchants, the one crafty, and the other 

without deceit 123 

Fable XXIV. 
The Frog, the Cray-fish, and the Serpent . . . 126 



CONTENTS. IX 

PAGE 

Fable XXV. 
The Gardener and the Bear 129 

Fable XXVI. 
The Merchant and his Friend 131 



CHAPTER III. 

Fable I. 
The Fox, the Wolf, and the Raven .... 137 

Fable II. 
The Ass and the Gardener . . . . .138 

Fable III. 
The Prince and his Minister 141 

Fable IV. 
A Hermit who quitted the Desert to live at Court . 145 

Fable V. 
The Blind Man who travelled with one of his Friends . 149 

Fable VI. 
A religious Doctor and a Dervise . . . .153 

Fable VII. 
The Merchant's Wife and the Painter . . .158 

Fable VIII. 
Three envious Persons that found Money . . .161 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 
Fable IX. 

The ignorant Physician . . . . . .167 

Fable X. 
The virtuous Woman and the young Falconer . .173 



CHAPTER IV. 

Fable I. 
The Raven, the Hat, and the Pigeons . . .181 

Fable II. 
The Partridge and the Falcon 185 

Fable III. 
The Man and the Adder 189 

Fable IV. 
The Adventures of Zirac 196 

Fable V. 
A Husband and his Wife 198 

Fable VI. 
l)ie Hunter and the Wolf 199 

Fable VII. 
The ravenous Cat 205 



CONTENTS. XI 

PAGE 
Fable VIII. 

The two Friends 207 



CHAPTER V. 

Fable I. 
The Ravens and the Owls 216 

Fable II. 
The King and his Mistress 220 

Fable III. 
The Original of the Hatred between the Ravens and the 
Owls 224 

Fable IV. 
The Elephants and the Rabbits 226 

Fable V. 
The Cat and the two Birds 232 

Fable VI. 
The Dervise and the four Robbers .... 235 

Fable VII. 
The Merchant, his Wife, and the Robber . . . 239 

Fable VIII. 
The Dervise, the Thief, and the Devil . . .241 

Fable IX. 
The Joiner and his Wife 244 



XII CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Fable X. 
The Monkeys and the Bears 248 

Fable XI. 
The Mouse that was changed into a little Girl . .258 

Fable XII. 

The Serpent and the Frogs 261 

The Conclusion 263 



THE 



FABLES OF PILPAY. 



INTRODUCTION, 

Towards the eastern confines of China there once 
reigned a Monarch, whose renown, as well for 
arms as wisdom and virtue, spread far and near 
through all the countries of the East, and made 
him the admiration of all that part of the world. 
The greatest Princes of the East were subject to 
his dominion, and admirers of his virtues. He 
was attended like Cohadan, and lodged like 
Poashti ; * potent as Alexander, and armed like 
Darius. His council was composed of persons of 
integrity and learning ; his riches were immense, 
his arms numerous, and himself both valiant and 

* Cohadan and Poashti were two Eastern princes, fa- 
mous for their conquests and magnificence through all 
that part of the world. 

B 



'/ INTRODUCTION. 

just. Rebels felt his anger, and his soldiers imi- 
tated his valour; his justice humbled the pride of 
tyrants, while his goodness succoured the miser- 
able. In a word, under the empire of Humayon- 
fal, for so this virtuous Prince was called, the 
people were happy, because everywhere through- 
out his vast dominions the most strict search was 
made after the wicked, and care taken to punish 
them as enemies to the public tranquillity. 

Justice ought to be the rule of every Prince's 
actions, who desires his kingdom and his throne 
should be established like the residence of the 
Supreme ; and whatever Monarch omits to admi- 
nister punishments to vice, and rewards to virtue, 
let him be assured his dominions will not be long 
secure from ruin. 

Good kings generally make good servants, and 
so it happened to this excellent Monarch ; for he 
had a Vizir, or Prime Minister, who loved the 
people like a real father ; he was merciful and 
compassionate ; and his counsels, like tapers, 
gave light into the most hidden secrets. His 
name was Gnogestehrai, that is to say, successful 
counsel, and very properly was he so called, since 
by his understanding he had rendered the king- 
dom happy. The King never undertook any en- 
terprise without first consulting him. He did 
everything by his advice, for he found that with- 
out it nothing prospered. 

It happened that once as the Monarch, attended 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

by his Vizir, had been hunting, after the pleasure 
and sport of their exercise were over, the King 
was for returning to his palace : but the heat of 
the sun was so violently scorching, that he told 
the Vizir he was not able to endure it : to which 
the Vizir answered, ** That if it were his Majesty's 
pleasure, he might go to the foot of a certain 
neiorhbourino- mountain where he would be sure 
of cool shade, and the refreshing breezes of the 
wind ; and there they might pleasantly spend the 
heat of the day/' The King followed his advice, 
and in a little time they got to the place, where 
the coolness, caused by the shade of several trees 
that nature seemed to have taken delight to plant 
by the sides of a number of winding brooks and 
fountains, made them forget the heat which they 
had endured upon the open road. The King find- 
ing the covert very delightful, sat down upon the 
grass, and falling into a contemplation of the 
works of the great Creator of all things, admired 
the inimitable painting of the flowers and other 
productions of nature that offered themselves to 
his sight. 

As he was, with this most laudable view, looking 
about him, he spied at some little distance the 
trunk cf a tree, which the rottenness of the wood 
declared to be decayed and very old, in which 
there was a swarm of bees that were makins: 
honey : upon this, having never seen an object of 
this kind before, he could not avoid askino^ the 



4 IT^TRODUCTION. 

Vizir, what those little creatures were. ** Most 
sovereign Monarch/' replied that Minister, **those 
little creatures are very beneficial, and of a thou- 
sand uses in society ; and are in the highest de- 
gree remarkable for the order of their government. 
They have a king among them, who is bigger than 
the rest, and whom they all obey ; he resides in 
a little square apartment, and has his vizirs, his 
porters, his Serjeants, and his guards ; the indus- 
try of these, and all his other officers, and people 
in general, is such, that they frame every one for 
themselves a little six-cornered chamber of wax, 
the angles of which differ not at all in shape or 
dimensions, but are so exactly made to answer 
one another, that the most expert geometrician 
could not range them w^ith more regularity. 
These little chambers finished, the vizir takes of 
them an oath of fidelity that they are never to de- 
file themselves. According to which promise, 
they never light but upon the branches of rose- 
bushes or odoriferous flowers, so that their food, 
which is aerial, and of the quintessence of flowers, 
is digested in a little time, and changed into a 
substance of a sweet and pleasing taste. When 
they return home the porters smell to them, and 
if they have no ill scent about them they are per- 
mitted to enter ; but if they have any ungrateful 
smell they kill them : or if they negligently suffer 
any one that has an ill scent to enter, and the king 
happens to smell it, he sends for the porters, and 



INTRODUCTION. O 

puts them and the offender to death at the same 
time. If any stranger fly endeavours to enter this 
community, the porters oppose him, and if he 
seeks to come in by violence he is put to death. 
Historians also report to us, great Emperor, that 
Poashti learned to build his palace, to have vizirs, 
porters, guards, and officers, from these little 
creatures/' 

When the King had heard the Vizir thus dis- 
course, he went near the tree, stood still to be- 
hold the little animals at work, and after he had 
well considered them, declared aloud his admira- 
tion to see a society of insects so well governed. 
His Vizir beholding him rapt up in astonish- 
ment, addressed himself to him in this manner : 
" Sir," said he, *' all this good order depends only 
upon the good counsel and prudent conduct of 
wise and able ministers, well affected to their 
prince, and lovers of the public peace ; these are 
the persons that always preserve an empire in a 
flourishing condition : and, whenever these things 
are mentioned, we ought to remember the 
strongest instance of this maxim ever known, 
which was in the conduct of the great Dabschelim, 
who wholly intrusted the government of his king- 
doms to the good counsels of that miracle of wis- 
dom the Bramin Pilpay ; insomuch, that by the 
guidance of that Minister, he reigned in peace 
and the greatest prosperity and earthly happiness, 
while he lived, and dying left to his posterity a 

B 2 



b INTRODUCTION. 

name for ever to be remembered with esteem and 
honour/^ 

When the King heard him pronounce the names 
of Dabschelim and Pilpay, he felt in himself the 
motions of a more than ordinary joy. " I have," 
said he to the Vizir, *' for a long time most ear- 
nestly desired to hear the story of that Bramin's 
government, but never yet could meet with an 
opportunity to satisfy myself, nor ever imagined 
that you knew their history. I am now more 
happy than I could expect, and desire you will 
immediately relate to me the story, that my king- 
dom may be established in happiness by the 
maxims of that venerable philosopher." On this 
command of the Monarch, the Vizir thus entered 
on the history. 



CHAPTER I. 



FORTUNE FAVOURS THE BOLD. 



THE STORY OF DABSCHELIM AND PILPAY. 

On the banks of Indus, towards the sea-coast, 
and over a vast extent of country thereabouts, 
there reigned a Prince, whose ministers (persons 
of justice, wisdom, and understanding), by their 
counsels rendered the subjects happy, and always 
successfully brought to pass the just designs 
of the Sovereign. This excellent prince was an 
enemy of oppression ; nor could the wicked ever 
gain their ends in his dominions. He was called 
Dabschelim (a name most proper for such a 
Prince, as signifying, in their language, a Great 
King). His puissance was such, that he under- 
took none but extraordinary enterprises, and 
those always just, and on honest and honourable 
grounds ; to relieve the distressed, or punish the 
proud oppressor, were the only occasions of his 
entering on war. His army was composed of ten 



8 CHAPTER I. 

thousand elephants, valiant and experienced sol- 
diers he had about him in great numbers, and his 
treasuries were kept full to support them. This 
rendered him formidable to his enemies, and pro- 
cured the repose of his people, of whom he took 
a particular care, hearing their complaints and 
differences, composing their quarrels, and making 
himself the arbitrator of their disputes, without 
any respect to his greatness or superior rank. 
He never forsook the interests of his people, but 
referred their affairs, when of too long and intri- 
cate a nature to come under his own cognisance, 
to the debates and decisions of men of justice and 
equity. When he had taken this good order for 
the government of his dominions, he lived in 
tranquillity, and spent his days with happiness 
and content. It happened that this wise and glo- 
rious Monarch, one day, when he had been for a 
long time entertained with divers discourses upon 
the several sciences, and the use they, and the 
principles of equity and honour, must be of in the 
well governing a people, laid himself down upon 
his bed to give some relaxation to his mind; 
which he had no sooner done, but he saw in a 
dream, a figure full of light and majesty, which 
approaching toward him with a look of benevo- 
lence, and the highest favour, spoke in the follow- 
ing manner : " You have done this day as a good 
Prince ought to do, and you shall be rewarded for 
it* To-morrow by break of day get on horse- 



CHAPTER I. 9 

back, and ride towards the east, where you shall 
find an inestimable treasure, by the means of 
which you shall, as you deserve, exceed in glory 
and honour all other men/' Immediately the 
figure disappeared, and Dabschehm, awaking with 
a heart full of joy and gratitude, mounted one of 
his best horses, and rode directly eastward. He 
passed, in his way, through several inhabited 
places, but at length arrived in a desert, where, 
viewing the country, and casting his eyes on every 
side, to discover his expected happiness, he per 
ceived, at a little distance before him, a moun- 
tain that reached above the clouds, at the foot of 
which he spied a cave, obscure, dark, and black 
within, as the hearts of wicked men. Without it 
he saw sitting a man, whose aspect sufficiently 
showed the austerity of his life. The King had a 
great desire to ride up to him, when the old man, 
understanding his intention, came forward, and 
breaking silence, addressed himself to the Mon- 
arch in these words: '* Sir," said he, 'though 
my small cottage be nothing like to your magni- 
ficent palace, yet it is an ancient custom for 
kings, out of their goodness, to come and visit the 
poor. The looks of great men, cast down upon 
the mean, augment their own grandeur. I joy to 
see the greatest and the wisest Monarch in the 
East not forget this ancient custom. And, O ! 
supreme and magnificent Prince, let it not raise a 
blush in thee to cast thy royal looks on ray low 



10 CHAPTER I. 

estate, when thou rememberest that Solomon, in 
the midst of all his glory and magnificence, vouch- 
safed to cast his eyes upon the little ants.'' 

Dabschelim was pleased with the old man's 
civility, and alighted from his horse to discourse 
with him. After he had talked to him of divers 
things, he was going to take his leave ; the ve- 
nerable sage surprised him with the following 
words : ** Sir," said he, " it is not for a poor man, 
as I am, to offer any refreshment to so great a 
Prince as you ; but permit me to tell you that I 
have a present, if your Majesty pleases to accept 
it, which has descended to me from father to 
son, and which is appointed for you ; it is a trea- 
sure which I have here by me, though 1 know not 
myself exactly the place where it now lies ; but 
if your Majesty thinks it worth your acceptance, 
command your servants to seek for it," Dabsche- 
lim, hearing these words, recounted his dream to 
the good old man, who rejoiced extremely to find 
that his intentions in bestowing his treasure were 
conformable to the will of the supreme power by 
whom he was intrusted with it. 

The King now commanded his servants to 
search for the treasure round about the cave, and 
in a little time they discovered it, and brought be- 
fore the King a vast number of chests and coffers 
full of gold, silver, and jewels. Among the rest, 
there was one chest of a smaller size than the 
others, which was bound about with several bars 



ClIAPTEIl I. 11 

of iron, and fastened with a multitude of padlocks, 
the keys of which were not to be found, notwith- 
standing all the care and diligence that were used 
to seek them. This highly increased the Mo- 
narch's curiosity. " There must be something," 
said he, '* in this little casket much more precious 
than jewels, since it is so strongly and carefully 
barred and locked.'* A smith was now procured, 
and the casket being broken open, there was 
found within it another small trunk of gold, set 
all over with precious stones, and within that yet 
another lesser box ; this the King ordered to be 
delivered into his own hands. When this little 
box was opened, he found therein a piece of white 
satin, upon which were written some lines in the 
Syriac language. Dabschelim was astonished at 
the accident, and in great perplexity to know 
what the words might signify. Some said, it was 
the will of the owner of the treasure ; and others, 
that it was a talisman, or some charm for the 
preservation of it. After every one had delivered 
his opinion, it was the King's pleasure that in- 
quiry should be made for some person who was 
able to interpret the meaning of the lines; and 
after long search, a person was found who per- 
fectly understood all the Oriental languages, who, 
when he had looked over it, said to the King, 
*' Sir, this writing is to a Prince, indeed, an ines- 
timable treasure ; it contains the rules, admo- 
nitions, and instructions of a great King, for the 



l2 CHAPTER I. 

well-governing a people ; and how nearly it par- 
ticularly concerns yourself, oh King ! permit me 
to show, by reading to you what it contains/^ 
The King bidding him read aloud, he then began 
as follows : — 



The Writing of the great King Houschenk, 
left with his Treasures. 

I, King Houschenk, have disposed of this trea- 
sure for the use of the great King Dabschelim, 
understanding, by a visionary revelation, him to 
be the person for whom it is designed; and, 
among the precious stones, I have concealed this 
my last Will and Testament, by way of instruc- 
tion to him, to let him know that it is not for men 
of reason and understanding to be dazzled with 
the lustre of glittering treasures. Riches are but 
borrowed conveniences, and are to be repaid to 
our successors. The pleasures of this world are 
charming, but they are not eternal. This Testa- 
ment is a thing of much more real use than all 
these treasures : it is an abridgment of the good 
rules proper to regulate the conduct of Kings ; 
and he must be a wise Prince who regulates his 
conduct by these instructions, which are in num- 
ber fourteen. 

I. That he never discard his domestic servants 
at the solicitation of other persons. For he that 
is near the person of a King, will never want 



CHAPTER I. 13 

some who will be envious and jealous of his hap- 
piness ; and when they see that the King has 
any affection for him, will not cease, by a thou- 
sand calumnies, if it can be done, to render him 
odious to his master. 

II. That he never suffer in his presence flat- 
terers nor railers ; for these people are always 
seeking occasions of disturbance. It is better to 
exterminate such people from the earth, than to 
let them be a trouble to human society. 

III. That he always preserve his ministers and 
grandees, if it be possible, in a right understand- 
ing with one another ; to the end that they may 
unanimously labour for the good and welfare of 
the state. 

IV. That he never trust to the submissions of 
his enemies. The more affection they testify, 
and the louder protestations they make of their 
services, the more artifices and villanies are to be 
mistrusted in them. There is no relying upon 
the friendship of an enemy ; he is to be shunned 
when he approaches with the countenance of a 
friend, as the siren who puts on charms but 
with an intent to destroy. 

V. When a man has once acquired what he has 
diligently sought after, let him preserve it care- 
fully ; for we have not every day the same oppor- 
tunity to gain what we desire. And when we 
have not preserved what we have once acquired, 

c 



14 CHAPTER I. 

we have nothing left us but the vexation of having 
lost it. We cannot fetch the arrow back which 
we have once let fly, though we should eat our 
fingers for madness. 

VI. That we ought never to be too hasty in 
business; but, on the other side, before we put 
any enterprise into execution, it behoveth us to 
weigh and examine what we are going to do. 
Things done in haste, and with a precipitate 
rashness, come frequently to a mischievous con- 
clusion. He repents in vain who cannot recall 
what he has done amiss. 

Vir. Th.at a man never despise good counsel 
and prudence. If there be a necessity for him to 
make peace with his enemies, in order to deliver 
himself out of their hands, let him do it without 
delay. 

VIII. To avoid the company of dissemblers, 
and never to hearken to their smooth speeches ; 
for, as in their bosoms they carry nothing but the 
plants of enmity, they can never bring forth the 
fruits of friendship. 

IX. To be merciful. Never let a Monarch in- 
flict a punishment on his subjects or servants for 
faults committed through infirmity: for a merciful 
Prince upon earth is as an angel in heaven. We 
ought to consider the weakness of men, and in 
charity and goodness to conceal their defects. 
Subjects have always committed faults, and Kings 



CHAPTER I. 15 

have always pardoned them, when they Iiave only 
committed the faults which the common frailties 
of human nature have betrayed them into. 

X. Not to procure the harm or injury of any 
person. On the other hand, we ought to do our 
neighbour all the good we can. If you do good, 
good will be done to you ; but if you do evil, the 
same will be measured back to you again. 

XI. That a King seek not after any thing 
that may be below his dignity, or a subject what 
is contrary to his genius or nature. There are 
many persons who let alone their own affairs, to 
intrude themselves into other people's business, 
and at last do nothing at all. The crow would 
needs learn to fly like the partridge ; it was a way 
of flying which he could never attain ; and in 
attempting to learn it, he forgot his own. 

XII. To be of a mild and affable temper. 
Mildness in society is like salt in our food : as 
salt seasons and gives a relish to all meat, the 
other gives content to everybody. The sword of 
steel is not so sharp as the sword of mildness ; it 
vanquishes even invincible armies. 

XIII. For a King to seek out faithful mmisters, 
and never to admit into his service or councils 
knaves and deceivers. By wise and honest mi- 
nisters the kingdom will be kept safe, and the 
King's secrets will never be revealed. 

XIV. Never to be disturbed at the accidents of 
the world. A man of resolution and true courage 



16 CHAPTER I. 

suffers all adversities with a settled fortitude, and 
relies upon the providence of Heaven, while a 
fool minds nothing but his pastime and his plea- 
sure. 

There are several Fables of excellent instruc- 
tion founded on every one of these heads, which 
if the King will hear, he must go to the mountain 
Serandib,* which was the mansion of our fathers, 
and there all the histories composed to illustrate 
and explain these admonitions will be related to 
him ; and every question that can come into his 
heart to ask, concerning the making his people 
happy, will be answered as from an oracle of 
heaven. 

When the learned man had done reading, Dab- 
schelim caught him in his arms, and eagerly em- 
braced him ; and having received back again the 
piece of satin, which he took with the most pro- 
found respect, he tied it about his arm, saying, at 
the same time, " I was promised indeed a worldly 
treasure, but beside, I have found a treasure of 
secrets. Heaven has favoured me with plenty of 
its blessings, for which my grateful soul now offers 
its most humble adorations and praises." Having 
said this, he ordered the gold and silver to be dis- 
tributed to the poor, and returned to his palace, 
where all that night he did nothing but ruminate 

* A vast mountain, famous for the residence of many 
of the learned men of the East. 



CHAPTER T. 17 

upon the journey wliich lie was to make to Se- 
randib. 

The next morning, by sun-rise, Dabschelim 
sent for two of his principal ministers, in whom 
he had a great confidence : to these he discovered 
his dream, and what had afterwards befallen him, 
and told them he had a most earnest inclination 
to make a journey to Serandib. '' I have for a 
long time," said he, '' taken this course, to ad- 
vise with my council before I undertook any of my 
enterprises, and in this also I am willing to refer 
myself to your judgments. And now I have told 
you my intentions, and the reason of them, I con- 
jure you by your honours, and the esteem I have 
for you, to tell me what you think, as a Prince 
who knows his duty to be the care of his subjects, 
I ought to do on this occasion/' The two minis- 
ters desired the remainder of the day and the night 
following, to consider the whole matter, that they 
might not without due deliberation give their 
answer in a thing of so high concernment. Dab- 
schelim granted their request, and the next day 
they came to wait upon the King ; and every one 
being seated in their places, so soon as the Mon- 
arch made them the sign to speak, the Grand Vizir 
fell upon his knees, and thus began : 

" Sir, in my opinion, this journey is like to be 

more painful than profitable. Your Majesty is to 
consider that the person who undertakes long 

c 2 



18 FABLE I. 

journeys, renounces at the same time his repose ; 
and to this your Majesty is not ignorant of the 
dangers and hazards to which the roads are sub- 
ject. It is not for a person of discretion to change 
his quiet and ease for labour and disturbance. 
Permit me on this occasion to call to your Ma- 
jesty's remembrance the Fable of the Pigeon that 
would needs be a traveller, and the dangers which 
he met with.'' 



THE TRAVELLING PIGEON. 

There were once in a certain part of your Ma- 
jesty's dominions two Pigeons, a male and a fe- 
male, which had been hatched from the same 
brood of eggs, and bred up together afterwards 
in the same nest, under the roof of an old build- 
ing, in which they lived together in mutual con- 
tent and perfect happiness, safely sheltered from 
all the injuries of the weather, and contented 
with a little water and a few tares. It is a trea- 
sure to live in a desert when we enjoy the happi- 
ness of a friend ; and there is no loss in quitting 
for the sake of such a one all other company 
in the world. But it seems too often the peculiar 
business of destiny to separate friends. Of these 
Pigeons the one was called the Beloved, the other 
the Lover. One day the Lover, having^ an eager 



FABLE I. 19 

desire to travel, iaiparted his design to his com- 
panion. ** Must we always/' said he, ** live con- 
fined to a hole ? No ; be it with you as you 
please, but for my part I am resolved to take a 
tour about the world. Travellers every day meet 
with new things, and acquire experience ; and 
all the great and learned among our ancestors 
have told us, that travelling is the only means to 
acquire knowledge. If the sword be never un- 
sheathed, it can never show the valour of the 
person that wears it ; and if the pen takes not its 
run through the extent of a page, it can never 
show the eloquence of the author that uses it. 
The heavens, by reason of their perpetual motion, 
exceed in glory and delight the regions beneath 
them ; and the dull brute earth is the solid place 
for all creatures to tread upon, only because it is 
immoveable. If a tree could remove itself from 
one place to another, it would neither be afraid 
of the saw nor the wedge, nor exposed to the ill 
usage of the wood>mongers." 

" All this is true," said the Beloved; '* but my 
dear companion, you know not, nor have you ever 
yet undergone the fatigues of travel, nor do you 
understand what it is to live in foreign countries ; 
and believe me, travelling is a tree, the chiefest 
fruit of which is labour and disquiet." " If the 
fatigues of travelling are very great," answered 
the Lover, ** they are abundantly rewarded with 
the pleasure of seeing a thousand rarities; and 



20 FABLE I. 

when people are once grown accustomed to la- 
bour, they look upon it to be no hardship/' 

" Travelling," replied the Beloved, " my dear 
companion, is never delightful but when we travel 
in company of our friends ; for when we are at a 
far distance from them, besides that we are ex- 
posed to the injuries of the weather, we are 
grieved to find ourselves separated from what we 
love : therefore take, my dearest, the advice 
which my tenderness suggests to you : never 
leave the place where you live at ease, nor for- 
sake the object of your dearest affection/' 

" If I find these hardships insupportable," re- 
plied the Lover, ** believe me, I will return in a 
little time. If I do not, be assured that I am 
happy, and let the consciousness of that make 
you also so." After they had thus reasoned the 
case together, they went to their rest, and meet- 
ing the next morning, the Lover being immove- 
able in his resolution, took their leaves of each 
other, and so parted. 

The Lover left his hole, like a bird that had 
made his escape out of a cage ; and as he went 
on his journey, was ravished with delight at the 
prospect of the mountains, rivers, and gardens 
which he flew over ; and, arriving towards even- 
ing at the foot of a little hill, where several rivu- 
lets, shaded with lovely trees, watered the ena- 
melled meadows, he resolved to spend the night 
in a place that so effectually resembled a terres- 



F.ABLE I. 21 

trial paradise. Bat, alas! how soon began he to 
feel the vicissitudes of fortune ! Hardly had he 
betaken himself to his repose upon a tree, when 
the air grew gloomy, and blazing gleams of light- 
ning began to flash against his eyes, while the 
thunder rattled along the plains, and became 
doubly terrible by its echoes from the neighbour- 
ing mountains. The rain also and the hail came 
down together in whole torrents, and made the 
poor Pigeon hop from bow to bow, beaten, wetted 
to the skin, and in continual terror of being con- 
sumed in a flash of lightning. In short, he spent 
the night so ill, that he already heartily repented 
his having left his comrade. 

The next morning, the sun having dispersed 
the clouds, the Lover was prudent enough to take 
his leave of the tree, with a full resolution to 
make the best of his way home again; he had 
not however flown fifty yards, when a Sparrow- 
hawk, with a keen appetite, perceiving our tra- 
veller, pursued him upon the wing. The Pigeon, 
seeing him at a distance, began to tremble ; and, 
as he approached nearer, utterly despairing ever 
to see his friend again, and no less sorry that he 
had not followed her advice, protested that if 
ever he escaped that danger, he would never 
more think of travelling. In this time the Spar- 
row-hawk had overtaken, and was just ready 
to seize him and tear him in pieces, when a 
hungry Eagle, lancing down with a full stoop 



22 FABLE I. 

upon the Sparrow-hawk, cried out, ** Hold, letnae 
devour that Pigeon to stay my stomach, till I find 
something else more solid." The Sparrow-hawk 
however, no less courageous than hungry, would 
not, though unequal in strength, give way to the 
Eagle : so that the two birds of prey fell to fight- 
ing one with another, and in the mean time the 
poor Pigeon escaped, and perceiving a hole so 
small that it would hardly give entrance to a Tit* 
mouse, yet made shift to squeeze himself into it, 
and so spent the night in a world of fear and 
trouble. By break of day he got out again, but 
he was now become so weak for want of food that 
he could hardly fly ; and, to this, he had not yet 
half recovered himself from the fear he was in the 
day before. As he was, however, full of terror, 
looking round about him to see whether the Spar- 
row-hawk or the Eagle appeared, he spied a Pi- 
geon in a field at a small distance, with a great 
deal of corn scattered in the place where he was 
feeding. The Lover rejoiced at the sight, drew 
near this happy Pigeon, as he thought him, and 
without compliments fell to ; but he had hardly 
pecked three grains before he found himself 
caught by the legs. The pleasures of this world, 
indeed, are generally but snares which the devil 
lays for us. 

*' Brother,'' said the Lover to the other Pigeon, 
'* we are both of one and the same species ; 
wherefore then did you not inform me of this 



FABLE I. 23 

piece of treachery, that I might not have fallen 
into these springes they have laid for us V* To 
which the other answered : ** Forbear complaints ; 
nobody can prevent his destiny ; nor can all the 
prudence of man preserve him from inevitable ac- 
cidents/' The Lover, on this, next besought him 
to teach him some expedient to free himself from 
the danger that threatened him. " Poor, innocent 
creature," answered the other, *' if I knew any 
means to do this, dost thou not think I would 
make use of it to deliver myself, that so I might 
not be the occasion of surprising others of my 
fellow-creatures ? Alas ! unfortunate friend, thou 
art but like the young Camel, who, weary with 
travelling, cried to his mother, with tears in his 
eyes, O mother without affection ! stop a little, 
that I may take breath and rest myself. To 
whom the mother replied, O son without consider- 
ation ! seest thou not that my bridle is in the 
hand of another ? Were I at liberty, I would 
gladly both throw down my burden, and give thee 
my assistance : But, alas ! we must both submit 
to what we cannot avoid or prevent." Our tra- 
veller perceiving, by this discourse, that all hopes 
of relief from others were vain, resolved to rely 
only on himself, and strengthened by his own 
despair, with much striving and long fluttering, 
at length broke the snare, and taking the benefit 
of his unexpected good fortune, bent his flight to- 
ward his own country ; and such was his joy for 



24 FAILLE I. 

having escaped so great a danger, that he even 
forgot his hunger. However, at length passing 
through a village, and lighting, merely for a little 
rest, upon a wall that was over against a field 
newly sown, a countryman, that was keeping the 
birds from his corn, perceiving the Pigeon, flung 
a stone at him, and, while the poor Lover was 
dreaming of nothing less than of the harm that 
was so near him, hithim so ter rible a blow, that 
he fell quite stunned into a deep and dry well 
that was at the foot of the walk By this, how- 
ever, he escaped being made the countryman's 
supper, who not being able to come at his prey, 
left it in the w^ell, and never thought more of it. 
There the Pigeon remained all the night long in 
the well with a sad heart, and a wing half broken. 
During the night his misfortunes would not permit 
him to sleep, and a thousand and a thousand 
times he wished himself at home with his friend ; 
the next day, however, he so bestirred himself, 
that he got out of the well, and towards evening 
arrived at his old habitation. 

The Beloved, hearing the fluttering of her com- 
panion's wings, flew forth with a more than ordi- 
nary joy to meet him ; but seeing him so weak 
and in so bad a condition, asked him tenderly 
the reason of it : upon which the Lover told 
her all his adventures, protesting heartily to take 
her advice for the future, and never to travel 
more. 



FABLE 1. 25 

"I have recited,'* concluded the Vizir, ** this 
example to your Majesty, to dissuade you from 
preferring the inconveniences of travelhng to the 
repose that you enjoy at home, among the praises 
and adorations of a loyal and happy people." 
** Wise Vizir," said the King, *' I acknowledge it 
a painful thing to travel ; but it is no less true, 
that there is great and useful knowledge to be 
gained by it. Should a man be always tied to 
his own house or his own country, he would be 
deprived of the sight and enjoyment of an infinite 
number of noble things. And to continue your 
allegoric history of birds, the Falcon is happy in 
seeing the beauties of the world, while Princes 
frequently carry them upon their hands, and for 
that honour and pleasure he quits the inglorious 
life of the nest. On the other hand, the Owl is 
contemned, because he always hides himself in 
ruinous buildings and dark holes, and delights in 
nothing but retirement. The mind of man ought 
to fly abroad and soar like the Falcon, not hide 
itself like the Owl. He that travels renders him- 
self acceptable to all the world, and men of w^is- 
dom and learning are pleased with his conversa- 
tion. Nothing is more clear and hmpid than 
running water, while stagnating puddles grow 
thick and muddy. Had the famous Falcon, that 
was bred in the Raven's nest, never flown abroad, 
he would never have been so highly advanced." 
The Vizir, on this, humbly besought the King to 

D 



26 FABLE II. 

recite that Fable, which he did in the following 
manner. 



THE FALCON AND THE RAVEN. 

There were once two Falcons which had built 
their nests near one another in a very high moun- 
tain, from whence they flew every way round 
them to seek food for their young ones. One 
day, as they were flown abroad upon the same 
design, they stayed from their nests a little too 
long ; for, in the mean time, one of the young 
ones, very hungry, put his head so far out of the 
nest to look for them, that he tumbled over, and 
fell from the top to the foot of the mountain ; at 
this instant, a Raven, that happened to be in that 
part, met with the fallen youngling, and at first 
took it for a Rat which some other Raven had 
accidentally let fall ; but, on more examination, 
finding by his beak and his talons that he was a 
bird of prey, he began to have a kindness for 
him ; and looking upon himself as an instrument 
ordained by Heaven to save the helpless creature, 
carried it to his own nest, and bred it up with 
his own young ones, where the Falcon grew every 
day bigger and bigger, and, coming at length to 
be of age to make reflections, nobly began to say 
to himself, ^^ If I am brother to these Ptavens, 
why am I not made as they are ? And if I am not 



FABLE II. 27 

of their race and progeny, why do I tarry here?" 
One day, as he was taken up with these medita- 
tions, '* Son," said the Raven to him, *' I have 
observed thee for some time to be very sad and 
pensive; I conjure thee, let me know the cause 
of it : if anything grieve thee, conceal it not 
from me, for I will endeavour thy relief and con- 
solation." '* I know not myself," replied the Fal- 
con, ** the reason of my desires, but I have long 
resolved to beg your permission to travel." *'0h 
Son," cried the Raven, *' thou art forming a design 
in thy young imagination, which my riper years 
can inform thee, will create in thee an infinite 
deal of pains and danger. Travelling is a sea 
that swallows up all the world. Wise people, 
however, never travel, unless it be either to get 
great estates, or because they cannot live con- 
tented and easy at home : neither of these two 
reasons, thanks lo Heaven, can, I think, have in- 
fused this design into thy brain, because thou 
wantest for nothing, and why therefore wouldst 
thou leave us ? Thou hast the absolute power 
over thy brothers and sisters, and all that 1 can 
do for thee thou needest but command. It is a 
great folly, therefore, in thee to quit an assured 
repose at home, to ramble in search of trouble 
and disquiet in foreign countries." To this the 
Falcon replied, *' Sir, what you tell me is most 
true, and I take it as a demonstration of your pa- 
ternal kindness for me ; but I feel something 



28 FABLE III. 

within me, which persuades me that I lead a 
hfe here in this place not worthy of myself." The 
Raven, on this, could not but observe, that in 
despite of a bad education, persons nobly de- 
scended are still the masters of sentiments be- 
coming their birth. He would fain, however, 
have put him upon farther discourse, in hopes to 
wean him from this strong inclination to travel ; 
and to that purpose, *' Son," said he, "■ my exhor- 
tations are persuasions to sobriety and contented- 
ness ; but those high-soaring thoughts of thine 
are only the effects of avarice. And let me as- 
sure thee of this, That whoever is not contented 
with what he has, can never be at quiet in his 
mind ; and I am in the highest degree concerned 
to find thou art not satisfied with thy condition ; 
but take with thee this my friendly admonition : 
Beware, lest what once befel the greedy and am- 
bitious Cat should happen to thee also. The 
Story is this." 



THE GREEDY AND AMBITIOUS CAT. 

There was formerly an old Woman in a village, 
extremely thin, half-starved, and meager. She 
lived in a little cottage as dark and gloomy as a 
fool's heart, and withal as close shut up as a 
miser's hand. This miserable creature had for 



FABLE III. 29 

the companion of her wretched retirements a Cat 
meager and lean as herself; the poor creature 
never saw bread, nor beheld the face of a 
stranger, and was forced to be contented with 
only smeUing the mice in their holes, or seeing 
the prints of their feet in the dust. If by some 
extraordinary lucky chance this miserable animal 
happened to catch a mouse, she was like a beggar 
that discovers a treasure ; her visage and her 
eyes were inflamed with joy, and that booty 
served her for a whole week ; and out of the excess 
of her admiration, and distrust of her own happi- 
ness, she would cry out to herself, ** Heavens 1 
Is this a dream, or is it real?*' One day, how- 
ever, ready to die for hunger, she got upon the 
ridge of her enchanted castle, which had long 
been the mansion of famine for cats, and spied 
from thence another Cat, that was stalking upon 
a neighbour's wall like a Lion^ walking along as 
if she had been counting her steps, and so fat 
that she could hardly go. The old Woman's Cat, 
astonished to see a creature of her own species 
so plump and so large, with a loud voice, cried 
out to her pursy neighbour, ** In the name of pity, 
speak to me, thou happiest of the Cat kind ! 
why, you look as if you came from one of the 
Khan* of Kathai's feasts ; I conjure ye, to tell 
me how, or in what region it is that you get your 

* A Nobleman of the East famous for his hospitality. 

D 2 



30 FABLE III. 

skin so well stuffed ?'* ** Where?" replied the fat- 
one ; ** why, where should one feed well but at a 
King's table ? I go to the house/' continued she, 
''every day about dinner-time, and there I lay 
my paws upon some delicious morsel or other, 
which serves me till the next, and then leave 
enough for an army of mice, which under me 
live in peace and tranquillity; for why should I 
commit murder for a piece of tough and skinny 
mouse flesh, when I can live on venison at a 
much easier rate V* The lean Cat, on this, eagerly 
inquired the way to this house of plenty, and en- 
treated her plump neighbour to carry her one day 
along with her. ^* Most wiUingly," said the fat 
Puss ; *^ for thou seest I am naturally charitable, 
and thou art so lean that I heartily pity thy con- 
dition. '* On this promise they parted ; and the 
lean Cat returned to the old Woman's chamber, 
where she told her dame the story of what had 
befallen her. The old Woman prudently endea- 
voured to dissuade her Cat from prosecuting her 
design, admonishing her withal to have a care of 
being deceived ; ^' For, believe me," said she, 
*Uhe desires of the ambitious are never to be sa- 
tiated, but when their mouths are stuffed with 
the dirt of their graves. Sobriety and temper- 
ance are the only things that truly enrich people. 
I must tell thee, poor silly Cat, that they who 
travel to satisfy their ambition, have no know- 
ledge of the good things they possess, nor are 



FABLE III. 31 

they truly thankful to Heaven for what they enjoy, 
who are not contented with their fortune." 

The poor starved Cat, however, had conceived 
so fair an idea of the King*s table, that the old 
Woman's good morals and judicious remon- 
strances entered in at one ear and went out at 
the other ; in short, she departed the next day 
with the fat Puss to go to the King's house ; but, 
alas I before she got thither, her destiny had laid 
a snare for her. For being a house of good 
cheer, it was so haunted with cats, that the ser- 
vants had, just at this time, orders to kill all the 
cats that came near it, by reason of a great rob- 
bery committed the night before in the King's 
larder by several grimalkins. The old Woman's 
Cat, however, pushed on by hunger, entered the 
house, and no sooner saw a dish of meat unob- 
served by the cooks, but she made a seizure of it, 
and was doing what for many years she had not 
done before, that is, heartily filling her belly ; 
but as she was enjoying herself under the dresser- 
board, and feeding heartily upon her stolen mor- 
sels, one of the testy officers of the kitchen, miss- 
ing his breakfast, and seeing where the poor Cat 
was solacing herself with it, threw his knife at 
her with such an unlucky hand, that he stuck her 
full in the breast. However, as it has been the 
providence of Nature to give this creature nine 
lives instead of one, poor Puss made a shift to 



32 FABLE III. 

crawl away, after she had for some time shammed 
dead : but, in her flight, observing the blood come 
streaming from her wound ; *' Well," said she, 
** let me but escape this accident, and if ever I 
quit my own hold and my own mice for all the rari- 
ties in the King's kitchen, may I lose all my nine 
lives at once." 

*' I cite you this example, to show you, that it 
is better to be contented with what one has than 
to travel in search of what ambition prompts us 
to seek for." '' What you say," said the Falcon, 
" is true, and it is a very wholesome advice ; but 
it is for mean and low spirits only to confine 
themselves always to a little hole. He that 
aspires to be a King, must begin with the con- 
quest of a kingdom, and he that would meet a 
crown must go in search of it. An effeminate and 
lazy life can never agree with a great soul." 

*' You are very magnanimous, Son," replied the 
Raven, " and, I perceive, design great conquests; 
but let me tell you, your enterprise cannot so 
soon be put in execution ; before you can conquer 
a kingdom, you must get together arms and ar- 
mies, and make great preparations." *' My ta- 
lons," replied the Falcon, '* are instruments suf- 
ficient to bring about my design, and myself am 
equal to the undertaking. Sure you never heard 
the story of the warrior, who by his single valour 



FABLE IV. 33 

became a King?" '* No/' replied the Raven; 
*' therefore let me hear it from you." On which 
the Falcon related it in this manner. 



THE POOR MAN WHO BECAME A GREAT KING. 

It being the pleasure of Heaven to rescue from 

misery a man who lived in extreme poverty, 
Providence gave him a Son, who from his infancy 
showed signal sign that he would one day come 
to be a great man. This infant became an imme- 
diate blessing to the old Man's house, for his 
wealth increased from day to day, from the time 
that the child was born. So soon as this young 
one could speak, he talked of nothing but swords, 
and bows and arrows. The Father sent him to 
school, and did all he could to infuse into him 
a good relish of learning ; but he neglected his 
book, and devoted his thoughts to nothing but 
running at the ring, and other warlike exercises, 
with the other children. 

When he came to years of discretion, '* Son," 
said his Father to him, " thou art now past the 
age of childhood, and art in the greatest danger 
to fall into disorder and irregularity, if thou givest 
thyself over to thy passions. I therefore intend 
to prevent that accident by marrying thee be- 
times." '* Dear Father," replied the stripling. 



34 FABLE IV. 

** for Heaven's sake, refuse me not the mistress 
which my youthful years have already made choice 
of/' " Who is that mistress?" presently replied 
the old Man, with great earnestness and uneasi- 
ness (for he had already looked out for him the 
daughter of a neighbouring hind, and agreed the 
matter with her father), " and what is her con- 
dition?" '* This is she," the lad made answer, 
showing his Father a very noble sword; *' and by 
virtue of this I expect to become master of a 
throne." The Father gave him many reasons to 
imagine he disapproved his intentions, and looked 
on them as little better than madness ; many a 
good lecture followed during the remainder of the 
day ; to avoid which, for the future, the young 
hero, the next morning, quitted his Father's house, 
and travelled in search of opportunities to sig- 
nalize his courage : many years he warred under 
the command of different Monarchs : at length, 
after he had everywhere signalized himself, not 
only by his conduct, but by his personal courage, 
a neighbouring Monarch, who, with his v/hole fa- 
mily, lay besieged in a small fortress, sent to him 
to entreat him to accept of the command of all his 
forces, to get them together, and endeavour to 
raise the siege, and relieve them ; in which, if he 
succeeded, he would make him his adopted son, 
and the heir of his vast empire : our young war- 
rior engaged in this, raised a vast army, fought 
the besiegers in their trenches, entirely conquered 



FABLE IV. 35 

them, and was the gainer of a glorious victory : 
but, alas ! the heat of the action made him not 
perceive that the fortress, in which the King was, 
was in flames ; some treacherous person had fired 
it, at the instigation of the general of the be- 
sieger's army, and the King and his whole family 
perished in the flames ; the old Monarch just 
lived, however, to see his deliverer, and to settle 
on him the inheritance of his crown. The Royal 
Family being all extinct by this fatal calamity, 
the nobles ratified the grant, and our illustrious 
hero lived many years a great and glorious 
monarch. 

'* I have recited this example," said the Falcon 
to the Raven, " that you may understand that I 
also find myself born to undertake great enter- 
prises : I have a strange foreboding within me, that 
I shall prove no less fortunate than this famous 
warrior ; and for this reason can never quit my 
design.'' When the Raven perceived him so fixed 
in his resolution, he consented to his putting it in 
execution : persuaded that so noble a courage 
would never be guilty of idle or unworthy actions. 

The Falcon having taken his leave of the Ra- 
ven, and bid farewell to all his pretended bre- 
thren, left the nest and flew away ; long he con- 
tinued flying, and in love with liberty, and at 
length stopped upon a high mountain ; here, look- 
ing round about him, he spied a Partridge in the 
fallow grounds that made all the neighbouring 



36 FABLE IV. 

hills resound with her note. Presently the Falcon 
lanced himself upon her, and having got her in 
his pounce, began to tear and eat her. '* This is 
no bad beginning,'' said he to himself; " though 
it were for nothing but to taste such delicate food ; 
'tis better travelling than to lie sleeping in a nasty 
nest, and feed upon carrion, as my brothers do/' 
Thus he spent three days in caressing himself 
with, delicate morsels ; but on the fourth, being 
on the top of another mountain, he saw a com- 
pany of men that were hawking ; these happened 
to be the King of the country with all his court ; 
and while he was gazing upon them, he saw their 
Falcon in pursuit of a Heron. Upon that, pricked 
forward by a noble emulation, he flies with all his 
force, gets before the King's Falcon, and over- 
takes the Heron. The King, admiring his agility, 
commands his Falconers to make use of all their 
cunning to catch this noble bird, which by good 
luck they did. And in a httle time he so entirely 
won the affection of the King, that he did him the 
honour to carry him usually upon his own hand. 

*' Had he always stayed in his nest," concluded 
the Monarch, "this good fortune had never be- 
fallen him. And you see by this Fable, that it is 
no unprofitable thing to travel. It rouses the ge- 
nius of people, and renders them capable of noble 
achievements." Dabschelim having ended his 
discourse, the Vizir, after he had made his sub- 



i 






MP 




r I 







The Leopard and the Lion. 



Paffe 37. 



FAliLE V. 37 

missions, and paid his duty according to custom, 
came forward, and addressing himself to the King, 
said, "' Sir, what your Majesty has said is most 
true, but I cannot but think yet that it is not ad- 
visable that a great, a glorious, and happy King, 
should quit his repose for the hardship and danger 
of travelling/' " Men of courage," answered the 
King, ** delight in labour, fatigue, and danger. 
if Kings, who have power, strip not the thorns 
from the rose-bushes, the poor can never gather 
the roses ; and till Princes have endured the in- 
conveniences of campaigns, the people can never 
sleep in peace. Nobody can be safe in these do- 
minions, while thou seekest nothing but my ease. 
He that travels meets with rest, and every thing 
else that he desires, like the Leopard, who by his 
pains and diligence, and despising the fatigues of 
travelling, acquired what he wished for." Upon 
this the Vizir humbly besought the King to relate 
that Fable to his slave, which he did in these 
words. 



THE LEOPARD AND THE LION. 

In the neighbourhood of Bassora, there was a 
very lovely island, in which grew a most delightful 
wood, where pleasing breezes whispered their 
love stories to the rustling leaves ; this enchanting 

£ 



38 FABLE V. 

forest was watered with several fountains, whence 
a number of recreating; streams ran gently wind- 
ing to every part of it : in lliis lovely place there 
lodged a Leopard so furious, that even the most 
daring Lions durst not approach within a league 
of his habitation. For several years his renowned 
and unequalled courage kept him in peace within 
this island with a little Leopard that was his fa- 
vourite and heir. To whom, said he, one day, 
" Son, so soon as thou shalt be strong enough to 
oppose my enemies, 1 will resign to thee the care 
of governing this island, and retire into one corner 
of it, where I will spend the remainder of my 
days, without trouble or molestation." But death 
crossed the old Leopard's design : he died when 
he least dreamt of it, and the young one, before 
he expected it, succeeded him. The ancient ene- 
mies of the old Leopard no sooner heard of his 
death, and the weakness of his successor, but 
they entered into a league, and together invaded 
the island ; and the young Leopard, finding him- 
self unable to withstand such a number of ene- 
mies, made his escape into the deserts, and there 
secured himself. In the mean time his enemies 
having together made themselves masters of the 
island, every one claimed an equal right to the 
sovereignty, and each would command in chief. 
Thus they fell out, and the business came to the 
decision of a bloody battle, wherein the Lion, 
being victor, drove ail the rest of his competitors 



FABLE V. 39 

out of his territories, and became the sole and 
peaceable master of the island. 

Some years after, the Leopard having devoted 
liis life to travel, in one of his journeys, meeting 
an assembled body of Lions in a remote part of 
the forest, recounted to them his misfortunes, 
and besought them to assist him in the recovery 
of his just inheritance. But the Lions, who knew 
full well the strength of the usurper, refused their 
assistance to the Leopard, and replied, '* Poor 
silly creature, dost thou not understand that thy 
island is now under the power of a Lion so re- 
doubted, that the very birds are afraid to fly over 
his head ? We advise thee rather," added they, '' to 
go and wait upon him, submissively offer thy ser- 
vices to him, and take some lucky opportunity 
privately to revenge the injuries he has done thee.*' 
The Leopard followed tliis counsel, went to the 
Lion*s court, and there intruding himself into the 
acquaintance of one of the most favourite domes- 
tics, by a thousand caresses, engaged him to give 
him an apportunity to discourse with his master. 
When he had obtained permission, he played his 
part so well that the Lion found him to be a crea- 
ture of so much merit, that he conferred a very 
noble employment upon him in his court, and in a 
very little time the Leopard so insinuated himself 
into the Lion's favour, that the first grandees of 
the court began to grow jealous of him. But 
their jealousies were all in vain, the Lion found him 



40 FABLE V. 

more valuable tlian them all, and in spite of all 
their idle malice, treated him accordingly. It 
happened, some time after this, that some extraor- 
dinary exigence of state called away the Lion to a 
place far distant from the island ; but the Mo- 
narch being now grown lazy, had no mind to stir 
out of his delightful abode at a time that the heat 
was so excessive: this the Leopard perceiving, 
offered to undertake the voyage himself, and after 
he had obtained leave, departed, arrived at the 
place, despatched his business, and returned back 
to court with such an unexpected speed, that the 
King, admiring his dihgence, said to those about 
him, ''This Leopard is one whom it is impossible 
for me sufficiently to reward ; he contemns labour, 
and despises hardship, so it be to procure the 
welfare and peace of my dominions/* Having 
said this, he sent for the Leopard, highly ap- 
y)lauded his zeal, and, in reward of his services, 
gave him the government of all his forests, and 
made him his heir. " Now, Vizir, had not the 
Leopard undertaken this journey, he had never 
regained his island.'* 

The Minister now finding that it would be im- 
possible to dissuade the King from the resolution 
he had taken to travel, said no more to hinder 
him, and he soon prepared for his journey. Dur- 
ing his absence he intrusted those Vizirs, in 
whom he had the greatest confidence, with the 



FAHLE V. 41 

care of his dominions, and charged them above 
all things to be kind and loving to the people. 
After a thousand admonitions of this kind, and a 
strict care that none but people worthy their of- 
fice were left in trust till his return, the glorious 
Dabschelim being at ease within himself, and in 
full peace of mind, set forward with some of his 
courtiers for Serandib, where he at length safely 
arrived after a long and painful journey. When 
he had given himself the refreshment of a short 
repose, he began to think of the business of his 
journey. He spent first, however, three days in 
walking about and taking a full view of the city; 
then leaving his most cumbersome baggage be- 
hind, as also some part of his train, he crossed the 
mountain, which he found wonderfully high and 
steep, but environed with a great number of plea- 
sant gardens and lovely meadows. When he had 
now crossed the mountain and was descending 
on the other side, he perceived a very obscure den 
or cavern, which, on his inquiry, the inhabitants 
of the mountain told him was the retirement of a 
certain hermit, called Bidpay, that is to say, the 
friendly physician ; and that some of the Indian 
grandees called him Pilpay ; that he was a per- 
son of profo^ind knowledge, and had retired from 
the world in contempt of the hurry and vanity of 
it, and pleased himself in leading a solitary life. 
This highly increased Dabschelim's curiosity, who 
therefore went himself to the mouth of the cave, 

e2 



42 FABLE V. 

and Pilpay, seeing liiin approach, went out to meet 
him, and itivited him in. The King being entered, 
the old Bramin besought him to rest himself, and 
begged leave to ask him the reason of his taking 
so long and dangerous a journey. The King, who 
had something of a prophetic apprehension that 
he should meet with what he sought for in his 
converse with this old man, recounted to him the 
whole story of his travels, his dream, the disco- 
very of the treasure, and what was contained in 
the piece of white satin. The Bramin then, with 
a look of the highest pleasure, told the King he 
looked upon those to be a happy people who lived 
under his reign, and that he could not sufficiently 
applaud his having contemned the fatigues of a 
tedious journey, to acquire knowledge for the fe- 
licity of his subjects. Then taking occasion from 
hence, he opened his lips, like a cabinet of pre- 
cious knowledge, and charmed Dabschelim with 
his admirable discourses. After several other 
things, they talked concerning Houschenk's let- 
ter. Dabschehm read the admonitions which it 
contained one after the other : at the end of each 
Pilpay gave the fables which served to illustrate 
them, and the Monarch heedfuliy kept them in 
his memory* 



43 



CHAPTER II. 



THAT WE OUGHT TO AVOID THE INSINUA- 
TIONS OF FLATTERERS AND BACKBITERS. 



'* The first admonition/' said the Monarch to the 
Bramin, '* contained in this most inestimable 
legacy of moral precepts, is, That Kings ought 
never to listen to false reports, or the insinuating 
malice of flatterers, which never produce any- 
thing but misfortunes, and always bring an ill 
end to such as hearken to them." '* Whoever," 
cried the Bramin, ** observes not this command 
must needs be ignorant of the Fable of the Lion 
and the Ox." Upon which, the King being desi- 
rous to hear it, Pilpay, in the following manner, 
began the Fables. 



THE MERCHANT AXD HIS LEWD CHILDREN; BEING 
THE INTRODUCTION TO THE FABLE OF THE LION 
AND THE OX. 

A CERTAIN Merchant, a man well skilled in the 
aSairs of the world, falling sick, and perceiving 



44 FABLE I, 

that his age and his distemper would not long 
permit him to live, called his three sons together, 
who were very debauched, and wasted his estate 
in riot and disorder. '* Sons," said he, ** I know 
you may be in some measure excused for thus 
consuming my estate, inasmuch as that you know 
not what it cost to get it : but it becomes you to 
learn, at least, that riches should be only properly 
made instrumental to acquire the blessings of 
heaven and earth. There are three things that 
men of different tempers and dispositions labour 
for in this world with more than ordinary vehe- 
mence. The first is, to enjoy all the pleasures of 
life ; and the seekers after these are the people 
who are addicted to intemperance, and abandon 
themselves to sensual delights. The second is, 
to obtain high dignities and preferments : those 
who endeavour after these are the ambitious, who 
only love to command and be admired. The 
third is, to acquire more valuable and more last- 
ing joys, the joys of heaven ; and to take delight 
in doing good to others. Those who place their 
happiness in these noble enjoyments, deserve the 
highest admiration and applause. But, my sons, 
there is no way to attain this last grand end, but 
by the means of wealth well got. Now seeing 
that what we seek for in this world is not to be 
had without money ; that, as it can procure us 
whatever we search for, must be first of all ac- 
quired, and most carefully preserved : but they 



FAELE I. 45 

who meet an estate already got to their hands, 
know not the trouble of getting it, and that is the 
reason they consume it so prodigally. Therefore, 
dear children, give over this irregular life, take 
care of yourselves, and rather endeavour to in- 
crease your estates, than to waste them in these 
idle extravagances." *^ Father,'' replied the 
eldest son, '* you command us to acquire ; but 
you should consider that acquisition depends 
only upon fortune. This also I am perfectly con- 
vinced of, that we shall never want what is des- 
tined us, though we should never stir a foot 
to obtain it : on the other side, we shall never 
be masters of what is not ordained for us, though 
we should torment ourselves to death in the 
endeavouring after it. I remember an old pro- 
verb : Whenever I fled what destiny had allotted, 
I always met with it ; but whenever I sought for 
that which never was appointed me, I never could 
find it. This is clearly to be seen by the Fable 
of the old King's two Sons; of which, one disco- 
vered his father's treasures, and gained the king- 
dom with little trouble, while the other lost it, 
though he did all he could to preserve it." The 
Father on this desired that he might hear this 
story, which his Son rehearsed as follows. 



46 FABLE II, 

THE KING AND HIS TWO SONS. 

In the country of Ardos,* there hved an ancient 
King, who had two Sons, both covetous, yet 
given to debauchery. This Monarch finding the 
infirmities of age increase upon him, and that he 
was hasting to the other world, and considering 
the humour of his two Sons, was much afraid that 
after his death they would dissipate in idle ex- 
penses the vast treasure which he had heaped 
together, and therefore resolved to hide it. With 
this design, he went to a religious Hermit, who 
had retired from the world, and in whom he had 
a very great confidence. By the counsel of this 
Hermit, the treasure was buried in the earth 
near where the Hermit dwelt, so privately, that 
nobody knew anything of it. This done, the 
King made his will, which he put into the Her- 
mit's hands, with these farther orders. ** I charge 
you,'' said he, *' yet to reveal this treasure to my 
children, when, after my death, you see them in 
the distresses of poverty. It may be," added the 
King, *' that when they have suffered a little 
hardship, they will become more prudent in their 
conduct." 

The Hermit having promised all fidelity in the 
observance of the King's commands, the Monarch 
returned to his palace, and in a short time after 

* Ardos is a province to the north-east of the river 
Indus. 



FABLE II. 47 

died; nor did the Hermit long survive him : the 
treasure therefore lay concealed, probably for ever 
to continue so, in the hermitage. The King 
being nov^r dead, the Sons could not agree about 
the succession. This occasioned a bloody war 
between them ; and the eldest, who was the more 
powerful, utterly despoiled his younger brother of 
all that he had. This young Prince, thus de- 
prived of his inheritance, fell into a deep melan- 
choly, and resolved to quit the world. To that 
purpose, he left the city, and calling to mind the 
kindness between his Father and the Hermit, 
*' There is no other way for me," said he to him- 
self, '' but to find out this honest man, that I may 
learn of him to hve as he does, and end my life 
in peace and contentedness in his company." 
With this resolution, he left the city ; but coming 
to the hermitage, found that the Hermit was dead. 
He was greatly afflicted and disappointed at this 
unexpected chance, but at length came to a reso- 
lution to live as he had done, and accordingly 
made choice of his retirement for his habitation. 
Now there was in this hermitage a well, which 
had been used to supply the place with water, 
but it was now dry ; to inquire into the cause of 
this, the unhappy Prince ventured to let himself 
down to the bottom of the well : but how great 
was his astonishment, when he saw the lower 
part of it, for a great depth, filled with his father's 
treasures. On finding this, he was thankful to 



48 FAliLE II. 

Heaven, and wisely took up a resolution to lay 
out his nioney with more moderation than he had 
done before. 

On the other hand, his brother, who sat se- 
curely revelling upon his throne, without any care 
of his people or his army, imagining within himself 
that his father's treasure was hid in the palace, as 
he had told him upon his death-bed, one day, 
being at war with a neighbouring Prince, was 
obliged to have recourse to his expected treasure. 
But how was he amazed, after he had sought 
a long time and found nothing! this quie dis- 
abled him from raising a powerful army, and 
threw him into a very great fit of melancholy. 
However, making a virtue of necessity, he raised 
what force he could, and marched out of the city 
to meet and encounter his enemy. The battle 
was obstinate, and this King and his enemy were 
both slain ; so that the two armies, enraged at the 
loss of their leaders, fell to butcher each other 
with equal fury, till at length the generals, having 
agreed together, that it would be their better way 
to choose a mild and gentle King for the govern- 
ment of the state, went and found out the young 
Prince, who was retired to the hermitage, con- 
ducted him in great pomp to the royal palace, 
and sat him upon the throne. 

" This Fable shows, that it is better for men to 
rely upon Providence, than to torment themselves 



FABLE III. 49 

about the acquisition of a thing that was never 
ordained them." When the young man had 
ended his Fable, " All this/' said the Father, 
** may be true ; but all effects have their causes, 
and he who relies upon Providence without con- 
sidering these, had need to be instructed by the 
ensuing Fable." 



THE DERVISE, THE FALCON, AND THE RAVEN. 

A CERTAIN Dervise used to relate, that in his 
youth, once passing through a wood, and admir- 
ing the works of the great Author of nature, he 
spied a Falcon that held a piece of flesh in 
his beak; and hovering about a tree, tore the 
flesh into bits, and gave it to a young Raven that 
lay bald and featherless in its nest. The Dervise 
admiring the bounty of Providence, in a rapture 
of admiration, cried out, *' Behold this poor bird, 
that is not able to seek out sustenance for him- 
self, is not however forsaken of its Creator, who 
spreads the whole world like a table, where all 
creatures have their food ready provided for 
them ! He extends his liberality so far, that the 
serpent finds wherewith to live upon the moun- 
tain of Gahen.* Why then am I so greedy, and 

* A mountain in the East, famous for a vast number of 
venomous animals. 

F 



60 FABLE III. 

wherefore do 1 run to the ends of the earth, and 
plough up the ocean for bread ? Is it not better 
that I should henceforward confine myself in re- 
pose to some little corner, and abandon myself 
to fortune.'* Upon this he retired to his cell, 
where, without putting himself to any farther 
trouble for anything in the world, he remained 
three days and three nights without victuals. At 
last, *' Servant of mine," said the Creator to him 
in a dream, ** know thou that all things in this 
world have their causes : and though my provi- 
dence can never be limited, my wisdom requires 
that men shall make use of the means that I have 
ordained them. If thou would st imitate any one 
of the birds thou hast seen, to my glory, use the 
talents I have given thee, and imitate the Falcon 
that feeds the Raven, and not the Raven that lies 
a sluggaii in his nest, and expects his food from 
another." 

'* This example shows us, that we are not to 
lead idle and lazy lives upon the pretence of de- 
pending upon Providence.'' On this, the elder 
Son was silenced, but the second Son taking 
upon him to speak, said to his Father, ** You ad- 
vise us, sir, to labour, and get estates and riches ; 
but when we have heaped up a great deal of 
wealth, is it not also necessary that you inform 
us what we shall do with it ? " " 'Tis easy to ac- 
quire wealth," replied the Father, " but a difficult 



FABLE IV. 51 

thing to expend it well. Riches many times prove 
very fatal ; an instance of which you may see in 
the followino; Fable.*' 



THE COUNTRYMAN AND SEVERAL RATS. 

There was once a certain Husbandman, who had 
a barn full of corn, which he carefully kept close 
locked up ; not far from this lived a Rat, who 
long laboured on every side of it, endeavouring to 
make a hole somewhere to creep in at. After 
great trouble he at length found his way into the 
barn, where, when he had thoroughly filled his 
belly, amazed at the vast treasures which he saw 
himself master of, away he ran, full of joy, and 
gave notice of it to a multitude of other Rats, his 
neighbours ; telling them of his immense riches, 
but carefully conceahng the place where they lay. 
On the news of his good fortune, all the Rats of 
the neighbouring villages presently flocked about 
him, and made him a thousand offers of their 
service, scraping and cringing to him, and sooth- 
ing him in all the excursions of his fantastic hu- 
mour. The fool, taking all this for reality, grew 
very proud and stately, as believing himself to be 
some extraordinary person ; and never considering 
that this magazine was not to last always, began 
most extravagantly to play the prodigal at the 



52 FABLE IV. 

poor Husbandman's cost, treating his companions 
and flatterers every day wiih as much as they 
could cram down. At this juncture of time there 
happened in the same country so terrible a famine, 
that the poor cried out for bread while the Rat 
lay wallowing in plenty. The Husbandman, now 
believing it his time to make the best of his corn, 
opened his barn door ; but finding a most un- 
expected consumption of his store, he fell into 
a passion, and presently removed what he had to 
another place. The Rat, who looked upon him- 
self to be sole master of misrule in the barn, was 
then asleep, but his parasites were awake, and 
seeing the Husbandman go and come, soon began 
to fear there was something the matter, and that 
they should by and by be murdered for their mon- 
strous robberies: upon this they betook themselves 
every one to flight, leaving the poor cullied Ral 
fast asleep, not one of them having gratitude 
enough to give him the least hint of the danger 
that threatened him. This is the practice of your 
smell-feast friends : while you keep a plentiful 
table they are your most humble and obedient 
servants, but when the accommodation fails, like 
Tartars, they seek for other pastures, and leave 
you to destruction. 

The Rat, however, soon after waking, was 
amazed to find none of his pick-thanks at his el- 
bow ; he left his hole in great haste, to know 
the cause, which he too soon found out ; for going 



FABLE IV. 53 

to the barn, and finding all was gone, not so 
much being left as would suffice him for that day, 
he fell into such a deep despair, that in anger and 
distraction he beat out his brains against the next 
wall, and so ended his days. This example, Son, 
shows us that we ought to live according to our 
income." 

The second brother being silenced also by this 
story, the youngest, taking his turn, said, '^ Fa- 
ther, you have well instructed us how to gain 
money, and to guard against the foolish wasting 
it, but now pray inform us, when we have ac- 
quired this wealth you speak of, what is to be 
done with it?'' *' It is to be made use of," replied 
the Father, '* upon all just occasions ; but more 
especially for the convenience of life, according 
to the rules of temperance and justice. In the 
first place, your expenses ought not to be such, 
as afterwards to be repented of by yourselves, or 
condemned by others as the waste of prodigality : 
and, in the second, it is a good general rule 
against the other extreme, that no man ought 
by his avarice to render himself hateful to the 
world." 

The Father having thus exhorted his children 
to follow his counsel, they betook themselves all 
three to particular callings. The eldest cf them 
turned merchant, and travelled into foreign coun- 
tries : among other goods, which he purchased 
for the sake of trade, he had two oxen ; both the 

F 2 



54 FABLE IV, 

calves of the same cow ; and both very fair and 
beautiful, the one was called Cohotorbe, and the 
other Mandebe. Our merchant took great care 
to feed up these oxen ; but because his journey 
was long, they, in spite of their good feeding, be- 
fore they arrived at the end of it, grew to be weak 
and lean. While they were in this poor con- 
dition they met with a quagmire in the road, into 
which Cohotorbe fell, and stuck so fast, that the 
merchant had much ado to get him out again ; 
and even when he had got him out, he found the 
poor beast was so weak that, being hardly able 
to stand, he was forced to leave him behind with 
another man, till he could recover strength to 
continue his journey : this man, after he had 
kept him three days in the desert, grew weary 
of his charge, left Cohotorbe to feed by himself, 
and sent the merchant word that his Ox was dead. 
In a little time after, Mandebe died of over fatigue, 
and Cohotorbe having now a little recovered his 
flesh, began to enjoy his liberty, and ramble from 
one place to another ; and coming at length into 
a meadow that pleased him very well, stayed there 
for some time, living in ease and plenty ; so that 
he became, in a little more time, as fair and 
plump as ever he was before. 

Not far from this meadow there dwelt, un- 
known to Cohotorbe, a Lion who made all the 
inhabitants of the woods round about him tremble, 
and commanded over several other Lions, who 



FABLE V. 55 

believed him to be the most potent sovereign in 
the world. This powerful monarch of the beasts 
near whom nothing of the beef-kind had ever 
ventured to approach, when he heard the bellow- 
ing of our Ox, which was a noise he had never 
heard before, a most dreadful terror seized him, 
and no motive could fetch him from his den to 
face this unknown enemy. Ashamed, however, 
to discover his fears to his courtiers, he pretended 
an illness that mado him unable to stir out of his 
palace. This king of the woods, among the rest 
of his domestic servants, had two Foxes, that 
were as cunning as two crocodiles, one of which 
was called Kalila, and the other Damna ; these 
were both beasts of great intrigue ; but the latter, 
which was the male, was more proud and more 
ambitious than the former. One day, says this 
inquisitive Fox to his wife, " Prythee, deary, 
what is it thinkest thou ails the King, that he 
dares not walk abroad as he used to do?*' To 
whom Kalila answered, ** Prythee, dear, let us 
never trouble ourselves about these matters ; 'tis 
sufficient for you and I to live peaceably under his 
protection, without examining what he does. It is 
not for us to prate about state affairs; and, let 
me tell you, spouse, they that meddle with things 
that no way concern them, are in danger of the 
same misfortune that befel the Ape." " And 
pray," replied the husband, *' what was thai?'* 
To whom the female Fox made this reply. 



FABLE V. 



THE CARPENTER AND THE APE. 

An Ape, one day, sat staring upon a Carpenter 
who was cleaving a piece of wood with two 
wedges, which he put into the cleft one after an- 
other, as the split opened. The Carpenter soon 
after getting away to his dinner, and leaving his 
work half done, the Ape would needs turn log- 
cleaver, and coming to the piece of wood, pulled 
out one wedge without putting in the other ; so 
that the wood having nothing to keep it asunder, 
closed immediately again, and catching the med- 
dling fool fast by the two fore feet, there held him 
till the surly Carpenter returned, who, without 
ceremony, knocked him on the head for meddling 
with his work. 

*' This Fable, spouse, instructs us that we 
ought not to meddle with other people's business." 
** Ah,'' replied Damna, '* but these are but foolish 
stories ; and let me tell you, it is not for those 
that serve kings to be idle : they must be always 
endeavouring to advance themselves. Know you 
not the Fable of the two Companions, one of 
whom, by his industry, obtained a crown ; while 
the other, being slothful and faint-hearted, fell 
into extreme misery ?'' 



FABLE VI. O/ 

THE TWO TRAVELLERS. 

There were once two friends, who made a reso- 
lution never to leave each other. In pursuance 
of this, for a long time, they always travelled to- 
gether. But one day, as they were journeying in 
search of their common advantages, they came to 
a deep river at the foot of a hill ; and the place 
was so delightful, that they resolved to rest them.- 
selves by the stream. After they were well re- 
freshed, they began to look about them, and 
please their eyes with what they could discover 
most curious in so pleasant a place ; and at 
length cast their eyes upon a white stone, that 
contained the following words written in blue 
letters : 

'* Travellers, we have prepared an excellent 
banquet for your welcome ; but you must be bold 
and deserve it before you can obtain it : what you 
are to do is this : throw yourselves boldly into 
this fountain, and swim to the other side ; you shall 
there meet with a hon carved in white stone; this 
you must take upon your shoulders, and, without 
stopping, run with it to the top of yonder moun- 
tain, never fearing the wild beasts that surround 
you, nor the thorns that prick your feet ; for be 
assured nothing will hurt you : and as soon as 
you are got to the top of the hill, you will imme- 
diately find yourselves in possession of great feli- 
city: but if you cease going forward, you shall 



68 FABLE VI. 

never come to the happiness? nor shall the sloth- 
ful ever attain to what is here prepared for the 
industrious." 

Then Ganem, (for that was the name of one of 
the two companions,) says to Salem, (for so was 
the other called,) *^ Brother, here is a means pre- 
scribed us that will put an end to all our pains 
and travel ; let us take courage, and try w^hether 
what this stone contains be true or false/' ** Dear 
brother,*' replied Salem, *' it is not for a man of 
sense to give credit to such an idle writing as this 
appears to me to be : and in a vain expectation of 
I know not what uncertain gain, to throw himself 
into evident danger," '* Friend," replied Ganem, 
" they who have courage contemn danger, to make 
themselves happy ; there is no gathering the rose 
without being pricked by the thorns." ** Be that 
as it will," answered Salem, ^' it is but a romantic 
valour that prompts us to attempt enterprises, the 
end of which we know not, even though we 
should succeed : and if we are in our senses, we 
must see that it is not our business, for the sake 
of a dark promise, to throw ourselves into this 
water, that seems to be a kind of an abyss, from 
whence it may not be so easy to get out again. 
A rational man, brother, never moves one of his 
feet till the other be fixed. Perhaps this writing 
may be a mere whimsy, the idle diversion of some 
wandering beggar ; or, even if it should be real, 
perhaps, when you have crossed this river, this 



PABLE VI. 59 

lion of stone may prove so heavy, that you may 
not be able to do as you are ordered, and run 
with it, without stopping, to the top of the moun- 
tain. But supposing even that all this were easy 
for you to perform, yet, trust me, it is not worth 
while to attempt it ; for, when you have done 
whatever is by you to be done, you know not 
what will be the issue of your trouble. For my 
part, I will be no sharer with you in dangers of 
this kind, but shall use all my rhetoric to endea- 
vour to dissuade you from such idle and chimerical 
undertakings.'' '* No persuasions," replied Ganem, 
** shall make me alter my resolution : and there- 
fore if you will not follow me, dear friend, at 
least be pleased to see me venture." Salem see- 
ing him so resolute, cried out, " Dearest brother, 
if you are weak enough, in your reason, to deter- 
mine on this rash, and to me distracted, under- 
taking, give me a last embrace, and farewell for 
ever; you have refused my admonitions, and I 
have not the power to stay and be a witness of 
your ruin." On this they took a parting embrace, 
and Salem, taking his leave of his, as he sup- 
posed, unhappy brother, set forward upon his 
journey. 

On the other hand, Ganem went to the brink of 
the river, resolving to perish, or to win the prize. 
He found it deep, but, strengthened by his cou- 
rage, he threw himself in, and swam to the other 
side. When he had recovered the dry land, he 



60 FABLE VI. 

rested himself a while ; and then lifting up the lion, 
which he saw before him, with all his might, ran 
with it, without stopping, to the top of the moun- 
tain. When he had reached the top, he had be- 
fore him the prospect of a very fair and glorious 
city, which, as he was attentively viewing, there 
issued from the lion of stone such a terrible thun- 
dering noise, that the mountain, and all the places 
round about it, trembled. This noise no sooner 
reached the ears of the inhabitants of the city, 
but they came running up to Ganem, who was hoc 
a little astonished to see them ; and, presently, 
some that seemed to be superior to the rest in 
quality and degree, accosted him with great re- 
spect and ceremony ; and, after they had ha- 
rangued him with many large encomiums, they 
set him upon a horse sumptuously caparisoned, 
conducted him to the city, where they made him 
put on the royal robes, and proclaimed him King 
of all their country. When this ceremony was 
over, and the inhabitants seemed all very well 
pleased with their King, the new Monarch de- 
sired to understand the reason of his advance- 
ment : to which they answered, " that the learned 
men of the kingdom had, in regard to the future 
happiness of their country, by virtue of a talis- 
man, so charmed the fountain which he had 
crossed, and the lion of stone which he carried 
to the top of the mountain, that whenever their 
King died, any one who was so adventurous as 



FABLE VI. 61 

to expose himself to the hazards he had done, and 
brought the lion safe to the top of the mountain, 
had this reward for his courage; that the lion 
roared out so prodigiously, that the inhabitants, 
hearing the noise, went forth in search of the per- 
son who had arrived with it, to make him their 
King. This custom," pursued they, " has been 
of long continuance, and was meant to ensure us 
for our King, a man of courage and resolution ; 
and since the lot has fallen upon your Majesty, 
you sovereignty is absolute among us." 

" I have rehearsed this Fable to you, spouse," 
continued the male Fox, ** to let you understand 
that there is no tasting pleasure without trouble. 
But as courage and resolution you see are the sure 
ways to preferment, I am resolved never to give 
over till I am one of the greatest lords in the 
court." Kalila asked her spouse on this, what 
means he intended to make use of to attain his 
ends. *' Why you see," answered Damna, '' that 
our sovereign lord the Lion seems to be seized 
with astonishment and great uneasiness; now I 
am determined to attempt, at least, to cure him 
of his disquiet." ** How canst thou presume," 
cried Kalila, '* to give counsel to a King, that 
never was accustomed to the cabals of princes ?" 
** Persons of wit," replied Damna, *' never want 
either the means or industry to accomplish their 
designs. I remember that, one day, a handicraft 

G 



62 FABLE vr. 

tradesman, who, by his industry and genius, had 
gained a kingdom, received a letter from a neigh- 
bouring Prince, wherein he expostulated with the 
new King after this manner: 'Thou that didst 
never handle before any other than a chisel or a 
saw, how darest thou presume to govern a king- 
dom V To which the Carpenter returned for an- 
swer, * He that gave me wit enough to guide a 
saw, will also give me judgment to wield a sword ; 
with which, I doubt not, but I shall be able to 
chastise the insolence of any of my too arrogant 
neighbours/ " *' I know very well," replied Kalila, 
*' my dear, that you have both genius and courage; 
but let me put you in mind, that Kings do not 
always cherish with their favours those who have 
wit and merit to deserve them ; but their oldest 
servants, and such as have done the state im- 
portant service, generally are the people who 
have the greatest share of their favours ; and as 
you are but a new-comer, and indeed none of the 
most eminent of the King's servants, when you 
consider this, which, believe me, is the true state 
of the case, what can you pretend to ?" " Value 
me not," replied Damna, '* on the merit of what I 
am at court at present; for, let me tell you, I 
hope, in a short time, to have a much more con- 
siderable employment. I well know what are the 
methods of ingratiating one*s self with great per- 
sons, and let me, for your own sake, inform you, 
that they who aspire to be admitted into the ca^ 



FABLE VI. 63 

binets of princes, ought to have five particular qua- 
lifications : which are, Never to be in a passion ; 
to avoid pride; not to be covetous; to be sin- 
cere; and never be astonished at the changes of 
fortune." *' These are very good maxims," replied 
Kalila, *' in all states of life : but, pray tell me, 
supposing you were advanced to be the King's 
favourite, what are the virtues you would practise 
to keep his esteem/' " I would serve him," re- 
plied Damna, ** with a perfect fidelity; I would 
punctually obey him ; and whatever the King 
does, always believe his intentions good : I would 
persuade him to do good, by laying before him 
the benefits he will receive thereby, and dissuade 
him from doing whatever may be prejudicial to 
himself or his kingdom." ^^ I find," said Kalila, 
" thou art resolved to go on with this design, and 
must needs own thou seemest to have well quali- 
fied thyself for it ; but yet let me warn thee to 
have a care what thou doest, for it is a dangerous 
thing to serve a Prince. Wise men say, that 
there are three sorts of persons who are wholly 
deprived of judgment : they who are ambitious of 
preferments in the courts of princes ; they who 
make use of poison, to show their skill in curing 
it ; and they who intrust women with their secrets. 
A King is well compared to a high mountain, upon 
which there are mines of precious stones, and also 
numerous herds of wild devouring beasts: it is a 
difficult thing to accost these, but more dangerous 



64 FABLE VI. 

to inhabit them Kings are also well compared 
to a wild ocean, wherein sea-faring people gene- 
rally either make their fortunes, or perish." ^* I 
am not ignorant of all this/' replied Damna in his 
turn, ** but know also that Kings resemble fire, 
which will burn those who approach too near it ; 
but let me also tell thee, wife, that he who is 
afraid to adventure, will never come to any thing.'' 
After this discourse, Damna went to wait upon 
the Lion, and as soon as he approached his pre- 
sence, made him a profound reverence. The Lion 
took immediate notice of him, and asked who he 
was. To which some of his courtiers replied, 
that he was such a one, and that his father had a 
Jong time served his Majesty. "Oh," said the 
King, ^* I now remember him" — then turning to 
Damna " well, friend," said the Monarch very 
graciously, " where do you live ?" " I supply my 
father's place in your Majesty's household," replied 
Damna, '* but till now I never durst presume to 
appear in your Majesty's presence with the offer 
of my service. I hope your Majesty will not dis- 
dain the oblation of my faithful intentions, though 
I am the meanest and unworthiest of your Majes- 
ty's servants. Dry wood is sometimes as much 
esteemed as a beautiful tree." The Lion was 
much pleased with Damna's eloquence, and look- 
ing upon his courtiers, " Wit," said he, '* resem- 
bles fire, which will show itself, though covered 
with ashes." Damna was so overjoyed that his 



FABLE V"I. OU 

compliment had pleased the King, that he took 
his opportunity to beg a private audience of his 
Majesty; and when they were together ; ** Sir," 
said Damna, ** first let me implore your Majesty's 
pardon, for presuming to speak before your Ma- 
jesty ; and then, if I may presume so far, be- 
seech your Majesty to let me know the cause of 
your melancholy retirement ; for within these few 
days I have, with gre?tt sorrow, observed your 
Majesty has not been so cheerful as you were 
wont to be." Fain would the Lion have concealed 
his fear, but pleased with Damna's winning beha- 
viour, and wanting some one to unbosom his grief 
to, he determined to intrust him with the fatal 
secret of his fears; just as he was about to utter 
the cause of his troubles, behold Cohotorbe set up 
a most terrible bellowing ; this so disordered his 
countenance, that he found himself constrained, 
even though he had not before intended it, to tell 
Damna, that the terrible noise of this beast, 
whatever he was, was the cause of all his dis- 
turbance. *' I imagine," said the King, *Hhat 
the body of the beast which I hear bellow so dread- 
fully, must be proportionable to the sound of his 
voice; and that being so, it is in vain for us to 
think of resisting him, and, indeed, it is little 
better than madness for us to tarry any longer in 
these woods." " Is this all that troubles your Ma- 
jesty?" said Damna. *' Nothing else," answered 
the Lion ; '' and this I think sufficient." " Sir," 

G 2 



66 FABLE VII. 

replied Damna, '^ you ought not to quit your 
princely habitation for this : it is not for a King 
to be afraid of a mere sound, but rather to fortify 
his courage with so much the greater resolution. 
Those creatures that make the loudest noises are 
not always the biggest nor the strongest. A 
crane, as big as he is, has neither strength nor 
courage to encounter the smallest hawk : and he 
that suffers himself to be deluded by bulk of body, 
may hke enough be deceived as the Fox was. 



THE FOX AND THE HEN. 

There was once, (continued Damna,) a cer- 
tain Fox, who eagerly searching about for some- 
thing to appease his hunger, at length spied a 
Hen, that was busy scratching the earth and 
picking up worms at the foot of a tree. Upon 
the same tree there also hung a drum, which 
made a noise every now and then, the branches 
being moved by the violence of the wind, and 
beating upon it. The Fox was just going to fling 
himself upon the Hen, and make amends for a 
long fast, when he first heard the noise of the 
drum. *' Oh, ho," quoth he, looking up, *' are 
you there? I will be with ye by and by : that 
body, whatever it be, I promise myself must cer- 
tainly have more flesh upon it than a sorry Hen ; 




The Fox and the Hen. 



Page 66. 



FABLE VII. 67 

SO saying, he clambered up the tree, and in the 
mean while the Hen made her escape. The 
greedy and famished Fox seized his prey, and fell 
to work with teeth and claws upon it./ But when 
he had torn off the head of the drum^^and found 
there was nothing within but an empty cavity ; 
air instead of flesh and gristles, and a mere hol- 
lowness instead of good guts and garbage, fetch- 
ing a deep sigh ; " Unfortunate wretch that I am," 
cried he, ** what a delicate morsel have I lost, 
only for the show of a large bellyful ! " ^v 

** I have recited this example,'* concluded he, 
'* to the end your Majesty may not be terrified 
with the sound of the bellowing noise you hear, 
because loud and strenuous, for there is no cer- 
tainty from that of its coming from a terrible 
beast ; and if you please I will go and see what 
sort of creature it is." To which the Lion con- 
sented ; nevertheless, when Damna was gone, he 
repented his having sent him. " For," said the 
Monarch to himself, ** I should have remem- 
bered my father's excellent rule, that it is a great 
error in a Prince to discover his secrets to any, 
but especially that there are ten sorts of people 
who are never to be intrusted with them. These 
are, 1. Those whom he has used ill without a 
cause. 2. Those who have lost their estates or 
their honour at court. 3. Those who have been 
degraded from their employments without any 



68 FABLE VII. 

hopes of ever being restored to them again. 4. 
Those that love nothing but sedition and disturb- 
ance, 5. Those that see their kindred or ac- 
quaintance in preferments from whence them- 
selves have been excluded. 6. Such as, having 
committed any crime, have been more severely 
punished than others who have transgressed in 
the same manner. 7. Such as have done good 
service, and have been but ill rewarded for it. 8. 
Enemies reconciled by constraint. 9. Those who 
believe the ruin of the Prince will turn to their 
advantage. 10. And lastly, those who believe 
themselves less obliged to their Sovereign than to 
his enemy. And as these are together so numer- 
ous a class of persons, I wish I have not done im- 
prudently in discovering my secrets to Damna." 
While the King was making these reflections 
to himself, Damna returned, and told him, with 
a smiling countenance, that the beast which made 
such a noise was no other than an Ox, that was 
feeding in a meadow, without any other design 
than to spend his days lazily in eating and sleep- 
ing. *' And,'* added Damna, *' if your Majesty 
thinks it convenient, I will so order the matter, 
that he shall be glad to come and enroll hunself 
in the number of your servants." The Lion was 
extremely pleased with Damna's proposals, and 
made him a sign to go and fetch the Ox into his 
presence. On this, Damna went immediately to 
Cohctorbe, and asked him from whence he came, 



FABLE VII. 69 

and what accident had brouglit him into those 
quarters ? In answer to which, when Cohotorbe 
had related his history at large, Damna said, 
*' Friend, I am very glad I have happened to see 
thee, for it may be in my power to do thee a sin- 
gular service, by acquainting thee with the state 
of the place thou hast accidentally wandered into : 
know then, that here lives a Lion not far off, who 
is the king of all the beasts of this country, and 
that he is, though a terrible enemy, yet a most 
kind and tender friend to all the beasts who put 
themselves under his protection. When I first 
saw you here, I acquainted his Majesty with 
it, and he has graciously desired to see thee, and 
given me orders to conduct thee to his palace. 
If thou wilt follow me, I promise thee the favour 
of being admitted into his service and protection; 
but if thou refusest to go along with me, know 
that thou hast not many days to live in this place." 
So soon as the Ox but heard the word Lion pro- 
nounced, he trembled for fear; but, recovering 
himself a little, as Damna continued his speech, 
he at length made answer, ** If thou wilt assure 
me that he shall do me no harm, I will follow 
him." Damna, on this, immediately swore to him ; 
and Cohotorbe, upon the faith of his oaths, con- 
sented to go and wait upon the Lion : Damna, on 
this, ran before to ^ive the King notice of Coho- 
torbe's coming ; and our Ox arriving soon after, 
made a profound reverence to the King, who re- 



70 FABLE VII. 

ceived him with great kindness, and asked him 
what occasion had brought him into his domi- 
nions? In answer to which, when the Ox had 
recounted to him all his adventures, " Remain 
here,'' said the Lion,** with us, and live in peace; 
for I permit all my subjects to live within my do- 
minions, in repose and tranquillity/* The Ox 
having returned his Majesty thanks for his kind 
reception, promised to serve him with a real fide- 
hty ; and at length insinuated himself in such a 
manner into the Lion's favour, that he gained his 
Majesty's confidence, and became his most inti- 
mate favourite. 

This, however, was matter of great affliction to 
poor Damna, who, when he saw that Cohotorbe 
was in greater esteem at court than himself, and 
that he was the only depository of the King's 
secrets, it wrought in him so desperate a jealousy, 
that he could not rest, but was ready to hang 
himself for vexation : in the fulness of his heart 
he flew to make his moan to Kalila. ** Oh, my 
dear wife," said he, *' I have taken a world of 
care and pains to gain the King's favour, and all 
to no purpose ; I brought, you may remember, 
into his presence the object that occasioned all 
his disturbances, and that very Ox is now become 
the sole cause of my disquiet." To which Kahla 
answered, "Spouse, you ought not to complain 
of what you have done, or at least you have no- 
body to blame but yourself. You should have 



FABLE VIII. 71 

considered that this might prove the consequence 
when you undertook this enterprise ; for you are 
now just in the condition of the Dervise who left 
his habitation." 



A DERVISE THAT LEFT HIS HABITATION. 

A CERTAIN King once presented a Dervise, who 
was a great favourite with him, with a very rich 
habit ; of which a cunning thief in the neighbour- 
hood having notice, made use of the following 
stratagem to cheat him of it : he went with a 
downcast look, and demure countenance, to the 
Dervise in his habitation, and pretended an earn- 
est desire to serve him, and that the utmost of 
his ambition was to attend on him as his master 
and great example in holiness as long as he lived. 
The Dervise, overjoyed that he had got a novice 
who seemed to be so piously inclined, most wil- 
lingly received him ; but the thief taking the first 
opportunity, stole the habit, and carried it away. 
The Dervise, missing at once both his rich clothes 
and his novice, mistrusted the business, and, so 
leaving his habitation, resolved to go to the city 
in search of the robber. As he travelled upon 
the road, he met with two Rams that were very 
furiously encountering one another, and inter- 
changed such desperate horn-blows, that the 



72 FABLE VIII. 

blood ran down on every side. A Fox, who was 
a witness of the combat, made his own advantage 
of it, and licked up the blood : but, at length, as 
he was licking he received such a terrible blovv 
over the head from one of the Rams, that he died 
upon the spot. 

The Dervise stopped a good while to behold, 
and moralize upon this accident, and, in short, 
stayed so long, that when he came to the city, 
the gates were shut. A good-natured woman, 
however, that lived in the city, looking out at 
her window, and perceiving he wanted a lodging, 
called to him, and offered him the conveniency of 
her house. The Dervise was honest himself, and 
therefore suspecting no harm of others, very rea- 
dily accepted her kindness, went into the house, 
and as soon as he was entered, thrust himself into 
a corner to say his usual prayers. This woman, 
as the devil would have it, v;as a bawd, and 
kept a bevy of pretty girls, whose favours she 
sold to the young gentry of the place. Now 
among these girls there was one who was so vio- 
lently beloved by a young gentleman, and of 
whom he was so jealous, that he would admit no- 
body else to come near her ; which they, who 
were enamoured bf her as well as himself, took so 
ill, that they persuaded the young girl to rid her- 
self of his compaiiyl And the girl, who feared 
him more than she loved him, listening to the 
persuasions of her other lovers, made her jealous 



FABLE VIII. 73 

tyrant drunk, and the same night blew a poi- 
sonous powder up into his nostrils; this powder, 
however, as mischief often rebounds on those who 
occasion it, forcing the young man to sneeze, 
the strength of the sternutation blew a part of it 
into the courtezan's mouth ; and she not being 
able to prevent its going down her throat, felt 
the effects of her own poison, and died the same 
hour. The poor Dervise who was a trembhng 
witness to all this, was astonished at the mon- 
strous wickedness of the world, and thought the 
night extremely long. 

As soon as day came, he made haste to leave 
so dangerous a place, and took a lodging at a 
shoemaker's house, who received him with open 
arms ; ihe same evening, however, the host be- 
mg invited to a feast from which it was impos- 
sible for him to absent himself, recommended to 
his family the care and good usage of his guest. 

Now this shoemaker's wife had a gallant, whom 
she was extremely fond of ; he was handsome, well 
made, a man of some wit, and good-humoured ; 
this loving couple met frequently together by 
means of a certain old surgeon's wife, who was so 
cunning a solicitress of lechery, that she could 
have reconciled fire and water into an amorous 
conjunction, and had her tongue so well hung, 
and was so perfect in the art of wheedling, that 
she would have made you believe a stone was 
made of wax. Whenever the shoemaker's wife 

H 



74 FABLE VTir. 

knew her husband was safe abroad, she made use 
of this Mistress Go-between, to give notice to her 
paramour of his absence ; and now believing she 
had an excellent opportunity, sent her away forth- 
with to tell her gallant the good news. Away 
comes he upon the first intimation ; but by what 
ill-luck I know not, as he was knocking at the 
door, the shoemaker arrived, and finx^ing the man, 
whom he already suspected to be the grafter of his 
forehead, had had such good intelligence, in he 
went, and without saying a word, beat his wife, 
tied her to a post, and so went to bed. 

While the moody cuckold, who had tired his 
arms with bestowing his strap upon his wife, was 
fast asleep, and dreaming, I warrant, of rams, 
stags, oxen, and other horned beasts, in comes 
the pious Go-between, the surgeon's wife, and 
not knowing any thing of what had happened, 
and having found out the shoemaker's wife, in the 
dark, ** 'Slife, sister," says she, ** why do you let 
the young man stay so long at the door ? for 
shame, go and fetch him in." To whom the dis- 
appointed bondwoman ansvvered, with a deep 
sigh, and a low voice; " I believe," says she, 
** some malicious demon or other sent my hus- 
band back from supper; for home he came in such 
a rage, that not satisfied with almost breaking 
my bones, he has here tied me to a post. Now, 
if you would do a charitable act, unbind me, and 
stand in my place a moment, while I go and beg 



FABLE VIII. 75 

pardon of my clear friend, for having made him 
stay so long: which done, I will immediately come 
back and be tied as I was/' 

The surgeon's wife, moved with compassion, 
and being a hearty well-wisher to the sweets of 
whoring, made no scruple to put herself in the 
room of her distressed neighbour, who immediate- 
ly went to keep her word with her gallant. And 
the Dervise, who had heard all this discourse 
now no longer accused the shoemaker of cruelty. 

In the mean time;, however, as luck would 
have it, the shoemaker waked, and called to his 
wife; but the surgeon's mate, fearing to be 
known by her voice, made no answer ; this put 
the shoemaker into such a fury, that he leaped 
out of the bed, took a knife in his hand, and 
at one slash cut off, as he thought, his wife's nose, 
and holding it in his hand, *' Here," said he, 
" here is a present for you to send to your wag- 
tail in a corner." 

The poor surgeon's wife, though in the utmost 
agony, durst not so much as sigh for fear ; ** How- 
ever," quoth she to herself, '* this is very hard 
luck for me to suffer what the shoemaker's wife 
deserves, while she is toying and dallying in the 
arms of her lover." 

The shoemaker's wife, on her return, you may 
easily imagine, was very much surprised to find 
her faithful helpmate without a nose ; begged her 
a thousand hearty pardons, unbound her, and tied 



76 FABLE VIIK 

herself in her place, while the surgeon's mate re- 
turned home, carrying her nose in her hand. 

Some hours after this, when she thought her 
husband might hear her, with her hands lifted 
up to heaven, " Most powerful Deity," cried she 
'' who knowest the secrets of all hearts, thou 
knowest that my husband has abused me without 
a cause ; let him see that I am a woman of repu- 
tation, by removing from my face the deformity 
with which his cruelty has defaced it, and restor- 
ing me my nose as it was before." The shoe- 
maker hearing these words, '* Vile strumpet," 
cried he, " what wicked prayer art thou making? 
knowest thou not that the prayers of harlots never 
reach the throne of heaven ? prayers that would 
be heard must issue from a clean heart and unde- 
filed lips." *^ Villanous and inhuman tyrant," 
cried his wife, *' rise and admire the puissance of 
the Deity, and the excess of his goodness, who, 
knowing my innocence of the crime of which thou 
accusest me, is pleased to demonstrate my chas- 
tity, by restoring me my nose, to the end I may 
not be looked upon as a woman of dishonour in 
the world." The shoemaker, believing such a 
miracle impossible, rises, lights a candle, comes to 
his w ife, and finding upon her face no mark at all 
of the cruel fact which he thought he had com- 
mitted, confessed the injury he had done her to 
suspect her, begged her pardon, and by a thou- 
sand caresses strove to make her forget his cruelty. 



FABLE VIII. 77 

The surgeon's wife, on the other hand, who 
was gone home to her lodging, as you may well 
beleive, in great affliction, crept softly into bed 
to her husband, who, when he waked, asked her 
for his case of instruments, that he might go and 
dress a person he had promised to be with before 
day. His wife was a long time seeking what her 
husband demanded, and when she saw him quite 
out of patience, gave him a single razor, which 
put him into such a fury that he flung it at her 
head, calling her a thousand jades and baggages. 
It was hardly day when this happened, w^hich 
favoured the noseless lady's design. Presently, 
therefore^ she ilung herself upon the ground, and 
filled the air with loud shrieks of murder ! murder ! 
which fetched all her neighbours in an instant 
about her ; who seeing her all bloody, and with- 
out a nose, began to cry out shame upon the 
surgeon, who was so astonished, that he knew 
not what to say, nor v/hich way to look. He 
knew not whether it were best for him to deny 
or confess the fact : however, when morning was 
come, they hurried the surgeon away before the 
magisti'ate, and demanded justice on him for his 
barbarity. As fortune would have it, however, 
the Dervise also went along with the rabble, and 
heard the case stated. 

After the witnesses were heard, '* Well," said 
the judge to the surgeon, " what have you to say 
for yourself? what was the reason that you 

h2 



78 FABLE VIII. 

abused your wife in this horrid manner?" To 
which when the surgeon, seized with astonish- 
ment, stood rnute> not knowing what to answer, 
the judge, without farther examination, was going 
to condemn him to death. 

On this the Dervise, who had with horror and 
amazement seen this and the other adventures of 
his journey, and was as it were possessed with 
the remembrance of them to such a degree, that 
he could not forbear continually repeating them in 
his mind, cried out, '* Hold, O judge ! suspend 
your judgment, and take care what sentence you 
pronounce ; it is neither the thief that stole my 
garments, nor the rams that killed the fox, nor 
the harlot that poisoned her lover, nor, lastly, the 
shoemaker that cut off the surgeon's wife's nose, 
but every one of the sufferers who have drawn 
upon themselves all these misfortunes.'* Then 
the judge leaving the surgeon, and addressing 
himself to the Dervise, demanded the interpreta- 
tion of his riddle. 

The Dervise, in answer, gave him a full ac- 
count of all that he had seen ; and moralizing on 
the whole, ** Sir," said he, ** had I not taken the 
rich garment out of ambition, the thief had never 
robbed me ; had not tlie fox thrown himself be- 
tween the rams out of greediness, he had not 
been killed ; had not the courtezan gone about to 
poison the young gentleman, she had not perished 
herself; and had not the surgeon's wife favoured 



FABLF V!1I. Vy 

the adultery of the shoemaker's, she had never 
lost her nose." And from the whole this short 
lesson is to be learned, that they who commit evil 
cannot hope for good. 

'* I have made use of this Fable,*' said Kalila to 
her spouse, " to show you that you have brought 
your troubles upon your own head.'' '* It is true," 
said Damna, *' that I am the cause of them ; this 
I am too sensible of, but what I desire of you is, 
to prescribe me the remedy." " I told you from 
the beginning," replied Kalila, " that for my part 
I would never meddle with your affairs, and now 
do not intend to trouble myself with the cure of 
your disturbances. Mind your own business 
yourself, and consider what course you have to 
take, and take it ; for, as to me, I have plagues 
enough of my own, without making myself un- 
happy about the misfortunes that your own follies 
have brought upon you." " Well then," replied 
Damna, *' what I shall do is this : I will use all 
my endeavours to ruin this Ox which occasions 
me all my misery, and shall be contented if I but 
find I have as much wit as the Sparrow that re- 
venged himself upon the Hawk." Kalila, upon 
this, desired him to recite that Fable, and Damna 
gave it her in the following manner. 



80 FABLE IX 



THE SPARROW AND THE SPARROW-HAWK. 

Two Sparrows had once built their nests under 
the same hovel, where they had also laid up some 
small provision for their young ones ; but a Spar- 
row-hawk, who had built his nest upon the top 
of a mountain, at the foot of which this hovel 
stood, came continually to watch at what time 
their eggs would be hatched ; and when they 
were, immediately eat up the young sparrows. 
This was a most sensible affliction to both the 
parents. However, they had afterwards another 
brood, which they hid so among the thatch of the 
hovel, that the Hawk was never able to find them ; 
these, therefore, they bred up so well, and in so 
much safety, that they had both of them the plea- 
sure to see them ready to fly. The father and the 
mother, by their continual chirping, testified for a 
long time their joy for such a happiness ; but all 
of a sudden, as the young ones began to be 
fledged, they fell into a profound melancholy, 
which was caused through extremity of fear lest 
the Sparrow-hawk should devour these young 
ones as he had done the others, as soon as they 
found their v/ay out of the nest. The eldest of 
these young sparrows one day perceiving this, 
desired to know of the father the reason of his 
affliction, which the father having discovered to 
him, he made answer, that instead of breaking 



FABLE IX. 81 

his heart with sorrow, it much better became him 
to seek out some way, if possible, to remove so 
dangerous a neighbour. All the sparrows ap- 
proved this advice of the young one ; and while 
the mother flew to get food, the father went an- 
other way in search of some cure for his sorrows. 
After he had flown about for some time, said he 
to himself, *' I know not, alas ! what it is I am 
seeking. Whither shall I fly ? and to whom shall 
I discover my troubles?'* At length he resolved, 
not knowing what course to take, %o address him- 
self to the first creature he met, and to consult 
him about his business. This first creature 
chanced to be a Salamander, whose extraordinary 
shape at first affrighted him : however, the Spar- 
row would not alter his resolution, but accosted 
and saluted him. The Salamander, who was very 
civil, gave him an obliging reception ; and look- 
ing upon him with a fixed eye, " Friend," said he, 
*^ I discover much trouble in thy countenance ; if 
it proceed from weariness, sit down and rest thy- 
self; if from any other cause, let me know it, 
and if it be in my power to serve thee, command 
me." With that the Sparrow told his misfortunes 
in such moving language as raised compassion in 
the Salamander. *' Well," said he, *' be of cou- 
rage, let not these troubles any more perplex thee ; 
I will deliver thee from this wicked neighbour this 
very night ; only show me his nest, and then go 
peaceably to roost with thy young ones ; " this the 



82 FAliLE IX. 

Sparrow accordingly punctually did, and returned 
the Salamander many thanks for being so much 
concerned for his misfortunes. 

No sooner was the night come, but the Sala- 
mander, determined to make good his promise, 
collected together a number of his fellows, and 
away they went in a body, with every one a bit 
of lighted sulphur in iheir mouths to the Sparrow- 
hawk's nest, who, not dreaming of any such 
thing, was surprised by the Salamanders, who 
threw the sulphur into the nest, and burnt the 
old Hawk, with all the young ones. 

" This Fable teaches ye, that whoever has a de- 
sign to ruin his enemy, may possibly bring it 
about let him be never so weak.'* '' But consider, 
spouse," replied Kalila, ** Cohotorbe is the King's 
chief favourite, and it will be a difficult thing, 
believe me, to ruin him ; where prudent princes 
have once placed their confidence they seldom 
withdraw it because of bare report. And I pre- 
sume you v/ill not be able to use any other means 
on this occasion." *' i will take care, however," 
replied Damna, '' of this, at least, that it shall 
be represented to the Lion, that one of the six 
great things which cause the ruin of kingdoms, 
*and which is indeed the principal, is to neglect 
and contemn men of wit and courage." *^That, 
indeed," replied Kaiila, '* is one very great one; 
but what, I pray, are the other five ?" " The se- 



FABLE X. 83 

cond," continued Damna, *' is not to punish the 
seditious ; the third is to be too much given 
to women, to play, and divertisements ; the 
fourth, the accidents attending a pestilence, a 
famine, or an earthquake ; the fifth is being too 
rash and violent; and the sixth is the preferring 
war before peace." " You are wise and prudent, 
spouse," replied Kalila ; ** but let me, though 
more simple, advise thee in this matter : be not 
the carver of your own revenge ; but consider 
that whoever meditates mischief, commonly birngs 
it at last upon his own head. On tlie other side, 
he that studies his neighbour's welfare, prospers 
in every thing he undertakes, as you may see by 
the ensuing Fable." 



THE KING WHO FROM A SAVAGE TYRANT 
BECAME BENIGN A^D JU>T. 

There was once in the eastern part of Egypt a 
King, whose reign had long been a course of sa- 
vage tyranny ; long had he ruined the rich and 
distressed the poor ; so that all his subjects, day 
and night, implored of heaven to be delivered 
from him. One day, as he returned from hunt- 
ing, after he had summoned his people together : 
** Unhappy subjects," says he to them, '' my con- 
duct has been long unjustifiable in regard to you : 



84 yaVjLe X, 

but that tyranny, with which I Jiave governed hi- 
therto, is at an end, and I assure you from hence- 
forward you shall live in peace and at ease, and 
no body shall dare to oppress you/* The people 
were extremely overjoyed at this good news, and 
forbore praying against the King. 

la a word, this Prince made from this time 
such an alteration in his conduct, that he acquired 
the title of the Just, and every one began to bless 
the felicity of his reign. One day, when his sub 
jects were thus settled in happiness, one of his 
favourites presuming to ask him the reason of so 
sudden and so remarkable a change, the King 
gave him this answer : ''As I rode a hunting the 
other day," said he, " I saw a series of accidents 
which threw me into a turn of mind that has pro- 
duced this happy change ; which, believe me, 
cannot give my people more real satisfaction than 
it does myself. The things that made this change 
in me were these : I saw a dog in pursuit of a 
fox, who, after he had overtaken him, bit off the 
lower part of his leg ; however, the fox, lame as 
he was, made a shift to escape and get into a 
hole, and the dog, not able to get him out, left 
him there : hardly had he gone, however, a hun- 
dre<^l paces, when a man threw a great stone at 
him and cracked his skull ; at the same instant 
the man ran in the way of a horse, that trod upon 
his foot and lamed him fur ever ; and soon after 
the horse's foot stuck so fast between two stones, 



FABLE XT. 85 

that he broke his ancle-bone in striving to get it 
out. On seeing these sudden misfortunes befal 
those who had engaged in doing ill to others, 
1 could not help saying to myself, Men are used 
as they use others : whoever does that which he 
ought not to do, receives what he is not willing 
to receive." 

"This example shows you, ray dear spouse, 
that they who do mischief to others, are generally 
punished themselves for it, when they least ex- 
pect it : believe me, if you attempt to ruin Coho- 
torbe, you will repent of it; he is stronger than 
you, and has more friends." '* No matter for that, 
dear spouse," replied Damna, '^ wit is always be- 
yond strength, as the following Fable will con- 
vince you." 



A RAVEN, A FOX, AXD A SERPENT. 

A Raven had once built her nest for many seasons 
together in a convenient cleft of a mountain, but 
however pleasing the place was to her, she had 
always reason enough to resolve to lay there no 
more ; for every time she hatched, a Serpent came 
and devoured her young ones. The Raven com- 
plaining to a Fox that was one of her friends, 
said to him, '' Pray tell me, what would you ad- 

I 



86 FABLE XII. 

vise me to do to be rid of this Serpent?" " What 
do you think to do ?" answered the Fox. "Why, 
my present intent is/' replied the Raven, " to go 
and peck out his eyes when he is asleep, that so 
he may no longer find the way to my nest." The 
Fox disapproved this design, and told the Raven, 
that it became a prudent person to manage his 
revenge in such a manner, that no mischief 
might befal himself in taking it : " Never run 
yourself," says he, " into the misfortune that 
once befel the Crane, of which I will tell you the 
Fable." 



THE CRANE AND THE CRAY-FISH. 

A Crane had once settled her habitation by the 
side of a broad and deep lake, and lived upon 
such fish as she could catch in it ; these she got 
in plenty enough for many years ; but at length 
being become old and feeble, she could fish no 
longer. In this afflicting circumstance she began 
to reflect, with sorrow, on the carelessness of her 
past years ; " I did ill," said she to herself, *' in 
not making in my youth necessary provision to 
support me in my old age ; but, as it is, I must 
now make the best of a bad market, and use cun- 
ning to get a livelihood as I can :'* with this reso- 
lution she placed herself by the water-side, and 



FABLE XII, 87 

began to sigh and look mighty melancholy. A 
Cray-fish, perceiving her at a distance, accosted 
her, and asked her why she appeared so sad ? 
** Alas," said she, '* how can I otherwise choose 
but grieve, seeing my daily nourishment is like to 
be taken from me? for I just now heard this talk 
between two fishermen passing this way : said 
the one to the other. Here is great store of fish, 
what think you of clearing this pond ? to whom 
his companion answered, No ; there is more in 
such a lake : let us go thither first, and then 
come hither the day afterwards. This they will 
certainly perform ; and then," added the Crane, 
" I must soon prepare for death." 

The Cray-fish, on this, went to the fish, and 
told them what she had heard : upon which the 
poor fish, in great perplexity, swam immediately 
to the Crane, and addressing themselves to her, 
told her what they had heard, and added, ^' We 
are now in so great a consternation, that we are 
come to desire your protection. Though you are 
our enemy, yet the wise tell us, that they who 
make their enemy their sanctuary, may be assured 
of being well received : you know full well that 
we are your daily food ; and if we are destroyed, 
you, who are now too old to travel in search of 
food, must also perish ; we pray you, therefore, 
for your own sake, as well as ours, to consider, 
and tell us what you think is the best course for 



88 FABLE XII. 

US to take/' To which the Crane replied, " That 
which you acquaint me with, I heard myself from 
the mouths of the fishermen; we have no power 
sufficient to withstand them ; nor do I know any 
other way to secure you, but this : it will be 
many months before they can clear the other 
pond they are to go about first ; and, in the mean 
time, I can at times, and as my strength will per- 
mit me, remove you one after another into a 
little pond here hard by, where there is very 
good water, and where the fishermen can never 
catch you, by reason of the extraordinary depth." 
The fish approved this counsel, and desired the 
Crane to carry them one by one into this pond. 
Nor did she fail to fish up three or four every 
morning, but she carried them no farther than to 
the top of a small hill, where she ate them : and 
thus she feasted herself for a while. 

But one day the Cray-fish, having a desire to 
see this delicate pond, made known her curiosty 
to the Crane, w^ho, bethinking herself that the 
Cray-fish was her most mortal enemy, resolved to 
get rid of her at once, and murder her as she 
had done the rest ; with this desio:n she fluno^ the 
Cray-fish upon her neck, and flew towards the 
hill. But when they came near the place, the 
Cray-fish, spying at a distance the small bones 
of her slaughtered companions, mistrusted the 
Crane's intention, and laying hold of a fair op^or- 



FABLE XII. 89 

tunity, got her neck in her claw, and grasped it 
so hard, that she fairly saved herself, and strangled 

the Crane. 

*'Th*s example/* says the Fox, '' shows you, 
that crafty tricking people often become victims 
to their own cunning." The Raven, returning 
thanks to the Fox for his good advice, said, " I 
shall not by any means neglect your wholesome 
instructions; but what shall I do?'* ^' Why," re- 
plied the Fox, " you must snatch up something 
that belongs to some stout man or other, and let 
him see what you do, to the end he may follow 
you. Which that he may easily do, do you fly 
slowly ; and when you are just over the Serpent's 
hole, let fail the thing that you hold in your 
beak or talons, whatever it be, for then the person 
that follows you, seeing the Serpent come forth, 
will not fail to knock him on the head." The 
Raven did as the Fox advised him, and by that 
means was delivered from the Serpent. 

*' What cannot be done by strength," said 
Damna, ** is to be performed by policy." ** It is 
very true," replied Kalila ; '' but the mischief 
here is, that the Ox has more policy than you. 
He will, by his prudence, frustrate all your pro- 
jects, and before you can pluck one hair from his 
tail, will flay off your skin. I know not whether 
you have ever heard of the Fable of the Rabbit, 
the Fox, and the Wolf; if not, I will tell it you. 



90 FABLE XIII. 

that you may make your advantage of it in the 
present case." 



THE RABBIT, THE FOX, AND THE WOLF. 

A HUNGRY Wolf once spied a Rabbit feeding at 
the foot of a tree, and was soon preparing to seize 
him. The Rabbit, perceiving him, would have 
saved his life by flight, but the Wolf threw him- 
self in his way, and stopped his escape : so that 
seeing himself in the power of the Wolf, submis- 
sive and prostrate at his feet, he gave him all the 
good words he could think of. '* I know,'' said 
he, " that the king of all creatures wants a supply 
to appease his hunger, and that he is now ranging 
the fields in search of food ; but I am but an in- 
significant morsel for his royal stomach : there- 
fore let him be pleased to take my information. 
About a furlong from hence lives a Fox that is 
fat and plump, and whose flesh is as white as a 
capon's : such a prey will do your Majesty's busi- 
ness. If you please, I will go and give him a visit, 
and engage him to come forth out of his hole : 
then, if he prove to your liking, you may devour 
him ; if not, it will be my glory that I had the 
honour of dying not in vain, but being a small 
breakfast to your Majesty." 

Thus over-persuaded, the Wolf gave the Rab- 



FABLE XIII. 91 

bit leave to seek out the Fox, and followed him 
at the heels. The Rabbit left the Wolf at the 
entrance of the hole, and crept in himself, over- 
joyed that he had such an opportunity to revenge 
himself on the Fox, from v^hom he had received 
an affront which he had for a long time pretended 
to have forgot. He made him a low conge, and 
gave him great protestations of his friendship. 
On the other side, the Fox was no less obliging 
in his answers to the Rabbit's civilities, and asked 
him what good wind had blown him thither. ** Only 
the great desire I had to see your worship," re- 
plied the Rabbit ; ^' and there is one of my rela- 
tions at the door, who is no less ambitious to kiss 
your hands, but he dares not enter without your 
permission.'* The Fox, on this, mistrusting there 
was something more than ordinary in all this civi- 
lity, said to himself, *'I shall find the bottom of 
all this presently, and then, if it proves as I sus- 
pect, I will take care to pay this pretended friend 
of mine in his own coin." However, not seeming 
to take any notice of what he suspected, '* Sir," 
said he to the Rabbit, '* your friend shall be most 
welcome, he does me too much honour ; but,'* 
added he, " I must intreat you to let me put my 
chamber in a little better order to receive him." 
The Rabbit, too much persuaded of the good suc- 
cess of his enterprise ; '* Puh, puh," said he, "my 
relation is one that never stands upon ceremonies," 
and so went out to give the Wolf notice that the 



92 FABLE XIII. 

Fox was fallen into the snare. The Wolf thought 
he had the Fox fast already, and the Rabbit be- 
lieved himself quite out of danger, as having done 
the Wolf such a piece of good service. But the 
Fox was too sharp-sighted to be thus trepanned 
out of his life. He had, at the entrance of his 
hole, a very deep trench, which he had digged on 
purpose to guard him against surprises of this na- 
ture. Presently, therefore, he took away the 
planks, which he had laid for the convenience of 
those that came to visit him, covered the trench 
with a little earth and straw, and set open a back 
door in case of necessity ; and having thus pre- 
pared all things, he desired the Rabbit and his 
friend to walk in. But, instead of the success of 
their plot, the two visitors found themselves, be- 
fore they expected it, in the bottom of a very 
deep pit, and the Wolf imagining that the Rabbit 
had a hand in the contrivance, in the heat of his 
fury tore him to pieces. 

*' By this you see, that finesse and policy signify 
nothing, where you have persons of wit and pru- 
dence to deal with." '* It is very true," said 
Damna ; " but the Ox is now proud of his prefer- 
ment, and thoughtless of danger, at least from 
me ; for he has not the least suspicion of my ha- 
tred. A Rabbit, wiser than that you have been 
speaking of, once undertook the ruin of a Lion, 
and you shall see how he brought it about.'' 



FABLE XTV. 93 

THE LION AND THE RABBIT. 

In the neighbourhood of Mianstol * there was a 
very delightful meadow, where several wild beasts 
had taken up their habitations, by reason of the 
pleasantness of the place. Among those creatures 
there was a furious Lion, who disturbed the peace 
of all the rest with his continual murders. In order 
to remedy this dreadful evil, one day they met all 
together, went to wait upon the Lion, and laid their 
case before him, that they were his subjects, and 
by consequence, that it no way became him to 
make, every day, such dreadful slaughters among 
them, of whole families together. " You seek 
after us,'* added they, ** to rule over us ; but 
though we are proud of a king of so much valour, 
yet in fear we avoid you : would you live peace- 
ably with us, and enjoy your quiet, by letting us 
alone, we would bring you every morning suffi- 
cient and delicate food, nor should you ever want 
to crown your meals with a flasket of tame and 
wild fowl, and you should yourself never be put 
to the toil of hunting." The Lion readily ac- 
cepted this proposal ; and the beasts cast lots 
every morning, and he upon whom the lot fell 
was appointed to hunt for the Lion. 

One day the lot fell upon a Rabbit ; who seeing 

* Mianstol is a large tract of country on the banks of 
the Ganges, uninhabited except by a great number of wild 
beasts. 



94 FABLE XIV. 

he could not avoid it, after he had summoned all 
the beasts together, said to them, '* You see how 
miserable a life it is we lead here ; either we must 
be eaten ourselves, or spend our labour to feed a 
churlish master. Now hear what I have to pro- 
pose ; do you but stand by me, and I will cer- 
tainly deliver you from this cruel tyrant that 
reigns over us." To this they all unanimously 
answered, that they would do their utmost. Upon 
this, the Rabbit stayed in his hole till the hour of 
dinner was past, and made no provision for the 
Lion. By this time the Lion's anger augmented 
with his appetite ; he lashed the ground with 
his tail, and at length perceiving the Rabbit, 
*^ Whence come you," said he, "and what are my 
subjects doing ? Do they suppose I accepted their 
proposal, and spared their lives, to be kept with- 
out victuals by their idleness? Be assured, if I 
wait much longer, they shall, some of them, se- 
verely pay for it." *^ May it please your Majesty 
to hear me," answered the Rabbit, bowing to him 
with a profound respect : '^ your subjects, sacred 
sir, have not been wanting in their duty ; they sent 
me hither to bring your Majesty your accustomed 
provision ; but I met a Lion by the way, who took 
it from me. I told him, when he seized it, that 
it was for the king : to which he most insolently 
answered, that there was no other king in this 
country but himself. Struck dumb with this 
monstrous behaviour, I left him, and ran to in- 



FABLE XIV. 95 

form your Majesty of this heinous piece of inso- 
lence." The Lion, on this, furiously turning 
about his burning eyes, cried out, *'Whoisthis 
audacious usurper that dares to lay his paw upon 
my food, which my subjects had laboured to pro- 
vide for me ? Canst thou show me where the au- 
dacious traitor lives V " Yes, sir,'' replied the 
Rabbit, " if you will be pleased to follow me." 
The Lion, breathing revenge and destruction, fol- 
lowed the wily Rabbit ; and when they came to a 
well that was full of clear water, '* Sir," said the 
Rabbit, '' your enemy lives in this well ; I dare 
not show him you, but only be pleased to look in 
yourself, and you will see hirn : have a care, how- 
ever, that you are not first assailed." With that 
the Lion went stalking to the well ; and seeing the 
reflection of his own image, which he took to be 
another Lion in the water, that had devoured his 
food, inflamed with anger, he flung himself into 
the well to encounter this mortal foe, and there 
was drowned himself. 

** This Fable shows you, that a strong person 
may be destroyed by one that is much weaker, 
when he is not mistrusted." " Well, well," said 
Kalila, ** if you can ruin the Ox without doing the 
Lion any harm, go on and prosper : if not, I ad- 
vise you to give over your enterprise ; for it does 
not become a subject, for his own private interest 



96 F4KLE xiv: 

and repose, to suffer any mischief to befall his 
Prince." 

Here the confabulation between Damna and 
Kalila ended; and Damna, having taken leave of 
his wife, absented himself for some time from the 
Lion's court. Afterwards he returned, and af- 
fecting an air of sadness before his Majesty, 
** Honest Damna," said the King to him, " whence 
comest thou ? where hast thou been this long 
time? is there any news abroad f' ''Yes, sir,'* 
answered Damna with a deep sigh, "there is news 
indeed : such news as I dread to speak, yet such 
as your Majesty ought to hear." On this the King 
starting for fear, cried out, "What is it?" "I beg 
your Majesty,'' replied Damna, "since you will 
hear it, that you will be pleased to grant me a 
private audience." " Affairs of importance ought 
never to be delayed," replied the King ; and so 
commanding the room to be immediately cleared, 
ordered Damna to speak what he had to say. 
" It is requisite,'* said that wily Minister, "that 
the bearer of ill news should have the address to 
give it an allay : and it is also most necessary, 
that he to whom it is reported should be able to 
judge whether the person that makes the report 
be worthy to be credited, or w^hether he speak 
falsely, and for the sake of his own interest ; and 
if he be worthy to be believed, he ought to be en- 
tirely confided in, when his discourse may be ad- 



FABLE XIV. 97 

vantageous to the public, or, what is yet of 
greater consequence, to the Sovereign himself." 
On this, the Lion interrupting him, " Thou know- 
est," said he, **that I have experienced thy fide- 
lity, and therefore speak boldly what thou hast to 
say." "The purity of my intentions," continued 
Damna, " have made me to assume this bold- 
ness, and I am more than happy to be known to 
your Majesty." *'I question not thy zeal," said 
the Lion ; " but prithee come to this news, which 
it so much concerns me to know." 

When Damna perceived the good success of his 
flatteries, and that the King had a confidence in 
nim, he thus began his discourse. " Sir," said he, 
" I am sorry to relate it, but my excellently es- 
teemed friend, and your Majesty's great favourite, 
Cohotorbe, has daily conferences with the gran- 
dees and chieftains of your army, and I know that 
\n them he improves every circumstance, as much 
as lies in his power, to your Majesty's prejudice ; 
which makes me believe he has some design upon 
your sacred person. I grieve to tell this, and am 
not less astonished than angry, when I reflect that 
he should so ungratefully abuse your favours, 
and the particular friendship with which you are 
pleased to honour him.'* *' Damna," cried the 
Lion, '' take care what thou sayest; thou art ac- 
cusing one of whom I have a settled good opi- 
nion : but if this be true, what course is to be 
taken?" "Sir," replied Damna, "there are two 

K 



98 FABLE XV. 

sorts of people in the world, the one sage and 
prudent, the other rash and inconsiderate. The 
one are always at a loss, when any accident be- 
falls them ; the other always foresee things, and 
therefore nothing moves them, whatever happens. 
We ought, sir, to imitate their prudence, and se- 
cure ourselves from danger, so soon as we have 
the least notice or intimation of it. There are 
also, beside these, yet another sort of people, 
who, I have observed, never truly foresee danger ; 
but, however, know how to take their proper 
courses when it presents itself: and these three 
characters put me in mind of the Fable of the 
three Fishes, which I would tell your Majesty, did 
I not fear it would offend your patience.'' The 
Lion, on this, commanded Damna to let him hear 
it out ; so Damna thus proceeded. 



THE TWO FISHERMEX AND THE THREE FISHES. 

There was once in your Majesty's dominions a 
certain pond, the water of which was very clear, 
and emptied itself into a neighbouring river. 
This pond was in a quiet place ; it was remote 
from the highway, and there were in it three fishes ; 
the one of which was prudent, the second had but 
little wit, and the third was a mere fool. One 



FABLE XV. 99 

day, by chance, two fishermen, in their walks, 
perceiving this pond, made up to it, and no sooner 
observed these three Fishes, which were large and 
fat, but they went and fetched their nets to take 
them. The Fishes suspecting, by what they saw 
of the Fishermen, that they intended no less than 
their destruction, began to be in a world of terror. 
The prudent Fish immediately resolved what 
course to take ; he threw himself out of the pond, 
through the little channel that opened into the 
river, and so made his escape. The next morn- 
ing the two Fishermen returned ; they made it 
their first business to stop up all the passages, to 
prevent the Fishes from getting out, and were 
making preparations for taking them. The half- 
witted Fish now heartily repented that he had 
not followed his companion : at length, however, 
he bethought himself of a stratagem ; he appeared 
upon the surface of the water with his belly up- 
ward, and feigned to be dead. The Fishermen 
also having taken him up, thought him really 
what he counterfeited himself to be, so threw him 
again into the water. And the last, which was 
the foolish Fish, seeing himself pressed by the 
Fishermen, sunk down to the bottom of the pond, 
shifted up and down from place to place, but 
could not avoid at last falling into their hands, 
and was that day made part of a public enter- 
tamment. 



100 FABLE XVI. 

*'This example/' continued Danina, '* shows 
your Majesty, that you ought to prevent Coho- 
torbe from doing the mischief he intends, by 
making yourself master of his life, before he have 
yours at his command.*' '' What you say is very 
agreeable to reason," said the King, " but I 
cannot yet believe that Cohotorbe, upon whom I 
have heaped so many favours, should be so per- 
fidious as you represent him.'' " Why, it is most 
true," replied Damna, *' that he never received 
anything but kindness from your Majesty ; but 
what is bred in the bone will never come out of 
the flesh; neither can anything come out of a 
vessel but what is put into it ; of which tlie 
following Fable is a sufficient proof." 



THE SCORPION AND THE TORTOISE. 

A Tortoise and Scorpion had once contracted a 
great intimacy, and bound themselves in such a 
tie of friendship, that the one could not live with- 
out the other. These inseparable companions, 
one day, finding themselves obliged to change 
their habitation, travelled together; but in their 
way meeting with a large and deep river, the 
Scorpion, making a stop, said to the Tortoise, 
" My dear friend, you are well provided for what 




The ScoRnoN and the Tortoise, 



Page 100. 



FABLE XVI. 101 

we see before us, but how shall I get over this 
water ?" '' Never trouble yourself, my dear friend, 
for that,*' replied the Tortoise ; " I will carry you 
upon nny back secure from all danger/' The 
Scorpion, on this, without hesitation, got upon 
the back of the Tortoise, who immediately took 
water and began to swim. But he was hardly 
got half-way across the river, when he heard a 
terrible rumbling upon his back ; which made him 
ask the Scorpion what he was doing ? *' Doing !*' 
replied the Scorpion, ^Svhy I am whetting my 
sting, to try whether I can bore this horny 
cuirass of yours, that covers your flesh like 
a shield, from -all injuries.'* "Oh, ungrateful 
wretch !" cried the Tortoise; " vvould'st thou, at 
a time when I am giving thee such a demon- 
stration of my friendship, would'st thou, at such 
a time, pierce with thy venomous sting the de- 
fence that nature has given me, and takeaway my 
life? It is well, however, I have it in ray power, 
both to save myself, and reward thee as thou 
deservest." So saying, he sunk his back to some 
depth under water, threw off the Scorpion, and 
left him to pay his life, the just forfeit of his mon- 
strous ingratitude. " Had he not destroyed his 
ungrateful favourite in this manner, royal sir,'* 
continued Damna, ** his own life hud paid for it ; 
and it is a good and most just general rule, that 
the wicked are never to be favoured.'* "You urge 
me too hard upon this subject," said the Lion, 

K 2 



102 FABLE XVI. 

"and I cannot but think, that were Cohotorbe 
capable of so mnch perfidiousness, he would cer- 
tainly have shown his malicious intentions before.'* 
** Never trust to that/* replied Damna ; *' he car- 
ries on his design with more prudence. He will 
not, royal sir, attack your majesty's person openly 
and publicly himself; no, but he will cajole your 
whole court, and delude them into his interests, 
and then take his own time to destroy your sacred 
person, and openly avowing his guilt, perhaps 
set himself up for king in your place. Just 
Heaven, keep me from seeing such a day ! Pro- 
vidence defend me from such masters V ** You 
say something indeed now," said the Lion, in- 
terrogating him ; " but now I know him guilty, 
how shall we find a fair pretence to be rid of 
him ?" ** Let me alone for that,'' replied Damna ; 
**a faithless subject must be punished." 

These amusements of the subtle Fox made such 
an impression on the mind of the King, that he at 
length told Damna he was come to a resolution 
to admit Cohotorbe no more into his presence, 
but to banish him altogether from his court, after 
he had upbraided him with his ingratitude, and 
let him know the reason of his fall. This resolu- 
tion, how^ever, was far enough from being pleas- 
ing to Damna : a guilty conscience never can 
have rest; he feared that if the King once came 
to talk with Cohotorbe, all his villany would be 
discovered. On this, said he to the Lion, " Sir, 



FABLE XVI. 103 

if I may continue my boldness of speaking to 
your Majesty, I have heard from persons of un- 
derstanding that a prince ought never to inflict 
public punishment upon faults committed in se- 
cret ; nor secretly to chastise public crimes : 
therefore, seeing Cohotorbe is a secret trans- 
gressor, he must be privately punished.'' *' No,'* 
replied the Lion ; *' it is a great piece of injustice 
to punish any one before he be told the reason of 
his punishment." " To satisfy yourself of his 
guilt," replied Damna, '' it will be sufficient, that 
once for all you make him sensible of your dis- 
pleasure, and give him a cold reception : his con- 
science will upbraid him with his perfidiousness 
at the same instant, and he will no longer doubt 
but that you are preparing for him his due re- 
ward : and you will perceive him accordingly 
disturbed and agitated in his mind, which will be 
an evident proof of the truth of my suspicion." 
"If it prove so," replied the Lion, " I shall be 
soon convinced of his treason." 

Damna, now seeing the King prepared to his 
heart's desire, went to Cohotorbe, and made him 
a low bow. To whom, the Ox, after many ca- 
resses, said, ** My good old friend, what is the 
reason that you come to see me no oftener ? is it 
because you think me no longer one of your 
friends ?'* ** Though I have been absent for some 
time," replied Damna, " yet, believe me, I have 
still preserved you in my thoughts." " Bui why," 



104 FABLE XVI. 

replied the Ox, *' did you retire from the court ?" 
" For this plain reason/' replied Damna, " be- 
cause I love my liberty ; and when we are in the 
King's presence we tremble for fear, as always 
being under restraint.*' '' If I mistake you not, 
friend," replied Cohotorbe, *' you look as ir' you 
were not satisfied with the King, and were afraid 
of some misfortune or foul play.*' ** Indeed you 
have guessed but too well the cause of my unea- 
siness,*' answered Damna : ** I tremble, and am 
as troubled as you can conceive me to be ; but it 
is for your sake, friend, and not for my own, that 
I am in this perplexity." Poor Cohotorbe, terribly 
frightened at this answer, quaking for fear, says 
to Damna, "My dear friend, let me know the 
danger that threatens me, that, if possible, I may 
guard against it." To this Damna, with a look of 
great compassion, replied, *^ It is but just, friend, 
that you should know your danger, nor should I 
act consistently with that friendship I have ever 
professed to you, not to acquaint you with it. 
The truth therefore is this : a friend of mine has 
intrusted me with a private discourse which 
passed, some days ago, between the King and a 
great person who has no kindness for your lord- 
ship. Said the King to this great person, I have 
been considering that Cohotorbe is now very fat 
and of no use to us ; and as I must a few days 
hence feast all the lords of my court, I think my 
cheapest way will be to roast this Ox alive and 



FABLE XVI. 105 

whole for their entertainment. I tremble to re- 
peat this ; but as I knew it, I could not but inform 
you of it, and bring you this news, to convince 
you that I am your real friend, and to assist you, 
as far as lies in my power, to avoid the danger." 
Cohotorbe was astonished at this piece of dismal 
intelligence. ** But by what device," said he, 
*' shall I be able to escape this intended cruelty 
of the King? Alas ! good Heaven is my witness, 
I never gave him the least occasion to use me so 
severely. Certainly I must have some private 
enemy, who has falsely accused me behind my 
back, and incensed him without a cause against 
me. And a Prince, who discards and punishes 
a servant on such grounds, is like the Drake, 
who, seeing the resemblance of the moon in the 
water, thought it to be some extraordinary fish, 
and, deluded with that error, dived several times 
to catch it; but, mad to see that all his efforts 
proved vain, in a violent rage came out of the 
water, swearing never to return to that element 
again ; and, after that, though he were ever 
so hungry, would never dive more after any 
fish, believing it to be only the light of the 
moon. But for me, unhappy that I am, back- 
biters and flatterers have so prepossessed the 
Lion against me, that v;hatever I do hencefor- 
ward to please him, he will still believe that I 
only dissemble." " I know not what to say, or 
how to advise in this case," replied Damna : *' the 



10(5 FABLE XVII. 

King may see his error, and alter his mind ; 
but then, on the other side, being absolute in 
his power, he may, without being bound to give 
any reason for it, condemn you to death." '^ It 
is most true,'* replied Cohotorbe, ** that princes 
often seek the destruction of those who seem 
their greatest favourites. And many, who envy 
the grandeur and ease of a court-life, know not 
the dangerous accidents that attend it ; as you 
may learn by the ensuing Fable/' 



THE FALCON AND THE HEN 

^' Of all the animals I was ever acquainted with," 
said a Falcon once to a Hen, ** you are the most 
unmindful of benefits, and the most ungrateful.'* 
" Why, what ingratitude,'* replied the Hen, 
^* have you ever observed in me?" " Can there 
be a greater piece of ingratitude," replied the 
Falcon, ** than that which you commit in regard 
to men ? By day they seek out every nourishment 
to fat you; and in the night you have a place 
always ready to roost in, where they take care 
that your chamber be close barred up, that no- 
thing may trouble your repose: nevertheless, 
when they would catch you, you forget all their 
goodness to you, and basely endeavour to escape 




The Falcon and the Hen. 



Page 106. 



FABLE XVII. 107 

their hands; which is what I never do, I that am 
a wild creature, no way obliged to them, and a 
bird of prey. Upon the meanest of their caresses 
I grow tame; suffer myself to be taken, and 
never eat but upon their fists." *' All this is 
very true," replied the Hen ; '' but I find you 
know not the reason of my flight : you never 
saw a Falcon upon the spit ; but I have seen 
a thousand Hens dressed with all manner of 
sauces." 

^'I have recited this Fable to show you, that 
often they who are ambitious of a court-life, 
know not the inconveniences of it." "I believe, 
friend," said Damna, ^' that the Lion seeks your 
life for no other reason but because he is jealous 
of your virtues." "The fruit-trees only," re- 
plied Cohotorbe, *^ are subject to have their 
branches broken ; Nightingales are caged be- 
cause they sing more pleasantly than other 
birds; and we pluck the Peacocks' feathers from 
their tails for no other reason but because they 
are beautiful. Merit alone is, therefore, too 
often the source and origin of our misfortunes. 
However, I am not afraid of whatever contriv- 
ances the malice of wicked people can make to 
my prejudice ; but shall endeavour to submit to 
what I cannot prevent, and imitate the Night- 
ingale in the following Fable." 



108 FABLE XVIII. 

THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE COUNTRYMAN. 

A CERTAIN Countryman had a rose-bush in his 
garden, which he made his sole pleasure and de- 
light. Every morning he went to look upon it, 
in the season of its flowering, and see his roses 
ready to blow. One day as he was admiring, 
according to his custom, the beauty of the flow- 
ers, he spied a Nightingale perched upon one of 
the branches near a very fine flower, and pluck- 
ing off* the leaves of it one after another. This 
put him in so great a passion, that the next day 
he laid a snare for the Nightingale, in revenge of 
the wrong ; in which he succeeded so well, that 
he took the bird, ard immediately put her in a 
cage. The Nightingale, very melancholy to see 
herself in that condition, with a mournful voice 
asked the Countryman the reason of her slavery. 
To whom he replied, ^' Knowest thou not that 
my whole delight was in those flowers, which 
thou wast wantonly destroying? every leaf that 
thou pluckedst from that rose was as a drop of 
blood from my heart." *^Alas!" rephed the 
Nightingale, '^ you use me very severely for 
having cropped a few leaves from a rose ; but 
expect to be used harshly in the other world, for 
afflicting me in this manner; for there all peo- 
ple are used after the same manner as they here 
use the other animals." The Countryman, mov- 
ed with these words, gave the Nightingale her 



FABLE XVIIl. 109 

liberty again ; for which she, willing to thank 
him, said, "Since you have had compassion in 
your nature, and have done me this favour, I 
will repay your kindness in the manner it de- 
serves. Know, therefore," continued she, "that, 
at the foot of yonder tree, there lies buried a pot 
full of gold ; go and take it, and Heaven bless 
you with it." The Countryman digged about 
the tree, and, finding the pot, astonished at the 
Nightingale's sagacity in discovering it; "I 
wonder," said he to her, ^' that, being able to see 
this pot, which was buried under ground, you 
could not discover the net that was spread for 
your captivity ?" "Know you not," replied the 
Nightingale, "that, however sharp-sighted o^. 
prudent we are, we can never escape our des- 
tiny." 

" By this example you see that, when we are 
conscious of our own innocence, we are wholly 
to resign ourselves up to our fate." "It is very 
true," replied Damna ; "the Lion, however, ac- 
cording to the most just observation of the cap- 
tive Nightingale in your Fable, in seeking your 
destruction, cannot but incur divine punishment; 
and, desirous as he is to augment his grandeur by 
your fall, I am apt to think, that what once be- 
fell the Hunter will be his destiny/' 



1 10 FABLE XIX. 

THE HUNTER, THE FOX, AND THE LEOPARD. 

A CERTAIN Hunter once, said Damna, pur- 
suing his discourse, espied, in the middle of a 
field, a Fox, who looked with so engaging an 
aspect, and had on a skin so fair and lovely, that 
he had a great desire to take him alive. With 
this intent he found out his hole, and just before 
the entrance into it dug a very deep trench, 
which he covered with slender twigs and straw, 
and, having laid on it a piece of smoking 
lamb's flesh, just cut up, went and hid himself 
in a corner out of sight. The Fox, returning 
to his hole, and observing at a distance what 
the Hunter had left for his breakfast, presently 
ran to see what dainty morsel it was. When 
he came to the trench, he would fain have been 
tasting the delicate entertainment ; but the fear 
of some treachery would not permit him to fall 
to : and, in short, finding he had strong reasons 
to suspect some ill design towards him, he was 
cunning enough to remove his lodging, and take 
up other quarters. In a moment after he was 
gone, as fortune would have it, came a hungry 
Leopard, who, being tempted by the savoury 
odour of tlie yet warm and smoking flesh, 
made such haste to fall to, that he tumbled 
into the trench. The Hunter, hearing the noise 
of the falling Leopard, immediately threw him- 
self into the trench, without looking into it, 




The Wolf, the Fox, the Raven, and the Camel. 

Page 111. 



FABLE XX. 1 1 1 

never questioning but that it was the Fox he 
had taken ; but there found, instead of him, 
the Leopard, who tore him in pieces, and de- 
voured him. 

''This Fable teaches us, that, however earn- 
estly we may wish for any event, providence 
and wisdom ought to regulate our desires." " I 
did very ill, indeed," replied Cohotorbe, *Uo ac- 
cept the Lion's offer of favour and friendship 
and now heartily wish I had been content with 
an humbler fortune." " It is not enough,'' re- 
plied Damna, interrupting him, 'Ho repent and 
bewail your past life ; your business is now 
to endeavour to moderate the Lion's passion." 
"I am assured of his natural good will to me," 
replied Cohotorbe ; ** but traitors and flatterers 
will do their utmost to change his favour into 
hatred, and I am afraid they will bring about 
their designs. Do not you remember that the 
Wolf, the Fox, and the Raven, once ruined the 
Camel?" 



THE WOLF, THE FOX, THE RAVEN, AND THE 
CAMEL. 

In former ages, continued Cohotorbe, there were 
a crafty Raven, a subtle Fox, and a bloody Wolf, 

who put themselves into the service of a Lion, 



1 12 FABLK XX. 

that held his court in a wood, near a certain not- 
much-frequented highway. Near this place, a 
merchant's Camel once, quite tired with long 
travel, got rid of his burden, and lay down to 
rest himself, and, if possible, preserve his life. In 
a few days after, having recovered his strength, 
he rose up, and, ignorant of the governor of these 
territories, entered into the Lion's wood with a 
design to feed. But, before he had spent an hour 
in travelling into it, he was astonished with the 
appearance of the Lion, whose majestic gait and 
aspect soon informed our traveller that he was 
Monarch of the place. The Camel, who at first 
sight expected nothing but to be devoured, was 
rejoiced to find this, and humbly ofiered him 
his service. The Lion accepted it ; and, after he 
knew by what accident he came into the place, 
asked him what he would choose to do ? "What- 
ever your Majesty pleases," replied the Camel, 
very submissively. '* Thou art at thy liberty,** 
replied the Lion, " to return, if thou Hkest it, and 
be the slave of thy former master ; or, if thou wilt 
rather live with me, thou hast my sacred and in- 
violable promise that thou shalt be secure from 
all injuries." The Camel was very glad 'of this, 
and remained with the Lion, doing nothing but 
feed without disturbance, so that he soon became 
plump and fat. 

One day after this, the Lion, in his hunting, 
met an Elephant, with whom he encountered ; 



FABLE XX. 113 

and, returning wounded to the wood, at length he 
was starved to death. While he lay on his death- 
bed, however, the Raven, the Wolf, and the Fox, 
who lived only upon what the Lion left after he 
had been at the field, fell into a deep melancholy ; 
which the Lion perceiving, said to them, ** I am 
more sorry for your sadness than for my own 
wounds. Go, and see if you can meet with any 
venison in the purlieus adjoining; if you do, re- 
turn and give me notice, and, notwithstanding my 
wounds, I will go and seize it for you.'' Upon 
this, away they went, left the Lion, and held a 
council all three together. Said the Wolf, *^If I 
may speak among you, friends, what good does 
this Camel do here ? We have no correspondence 
with him, nor does the Lion get any thing by 
him ; let us kill him, and he will keep us alive for 
two or three days, and by that time the King 
may, perhaps, be cured of his wounds." This 
advice, however, though hunger much pleaded in 
its favour, did not please the Fox, who affirmed 
that the Camel's life could not be justly taken 
away, since the Lion had given his word and so- 
lemn promise that he should live unmolested in 
the wood ; for that such an action would render 
the King odious to all posterity, who would look 
upon him as a perfidious Monarch, who gave pro- 
tection to a stranger in his dominions, only to put 
him to death without a cause, whenever he could 
make an advantage of his destruction. 

L 2 



114 FABLE XX. 

On this the Raven, who had as hungry a belly 
as the Wolf, together with a great deal of wit 
and as much malice, took upon him to reconcile 
both these opinions, saying, that there might be a 
fair pretence found to colour the death of the 
Camel. " Stay here," continued he, " till I re- 
turn, and I will bring you the Lion's consent for 
his destruction.*' So saying, away he went to 
the Lion ; and, when he came into his presence, 
making a profound reverence, and putting on a 
starved and meager look, said, " May it please 
your Majesty to hear me a few words : we are al- 
most famished to death, and so weak, that we can 
hardly crawl along ; but we have found out a re- 
medy for all this, and, if your Majesty will but 
give leave, have contrived how we shall have a 
feast." " What is your remedy V answered the 
Lion, hardly able to open his jaws for weakness 
and anguish ; *^ and what the feast you propose 
yourselves?" To whom the Raven replied, " Sir, 
the Camel, whom you once met with in the wood, 
lives like a hermit in your kingdom ; he never 
comes near us, nor is he good for any thing but to 
satisfy our hunger. And, in regard, your Majesty 
wants good and wholesome diet in your present 
weak condition, I am surgeon enough to venture 
to assure you, that camel's flesh must be very 
proper for you." The Lion, who was of a truly 
noble disposition, was highly incensed at this pro- 
posal of the Raven, and very passionately ex- 



FABLE XX. 115 

claimed, '' Oh ! what a wicked and treacherous 
age is this ! Vile and cunning as you are, tor I 
have long known you, Corvo, (for so was the Ra- 
ven called) ; how can all your sophistry prove it 
lawful in a King to be faithless, and violate as- 
certained promises?*' ** Sir," replied the Raven, 
*' far be it from me to attempt to prove that ; but, 
may it please your Majesty, I cannot but remem- 
ber, upon this most urgent occasion, that great ca- 
suists hold it for a maxim, that a single person 
may be sacrificed to the welfare of a whole nation. 
Or, should not this be entirely satisfactory to 
your Majesty, perhaps there may be some expe- 
dient found to disengage you from your promise." 
Upon that the Lion bowed down his head with 
fatigue and anguish, as if to consider of it, and 
the Raven returned to his companions, to whom 
he related what discourse had passed between the 
King and him. '' And now," said he, '^ let us go 
to the Camel, and inform him of the unfortunate 
accident that has befallen the King, and of his 
being likely to starve; and then lay before him, 
that since we have spent the greatest part of our 
lives in peace and plenty under the King's reign, 
it is but just that some of us should now sur- 
render up our own, to prolong his days. In 
pursuance of this discourse, we will engage the 
Camel to accompany us, and go to the King 
and offer him our three carcases ; striving, at the 
same time, which shall be most free of his flesh 



116 FABLE XX. 

to serve his Majesty for his present nourishment. 
The Camel, perhaps, will then be willing to 
follow our example, and offer to sacrifice himself 
in the same manner, and then we will take him 
at his word.'* This they all readily agreed to; 
and, in short, acted their parts so well, that they 
took the Camel with them to the King, to whom 
the Raven thus addressed himself: '' Sir," said 
he, '^seeing your health is of much more conse- 
quence to the public good, and more precious to 
us than our own lives, suffer me to show the just 
sense I have of my duty, by offering up my own 
body to you, to appease your raging hunger." 
"What a goodly collation you offer to his Ma- 
jesty !" cried the Fox, well instructed in the part 
he was to act in this design; ** you that have only 
a little skin, and three or four dry bones, are a 
precious bit to satisfy the King, who, I warrant 
you, could feed at this time like a glutton after a 
three days' fast. I have better flesh, and more 
substantial than yours, and have so much true 
sense of my duty (as I hope every one of his Ma- 
jesty's subjects has, especially those who, like us, 
have tasted of his favours) that I am as desirous 
as yourself to approve my gratitude and love to 
my sovereign." And, turning to the Lion, " Sir," 
said he, " let me entreat your Majesty to eat me." 
After these, the Wolf played his part. *' Sir," 
said he, " your Majesty must have more solid diet 
to refresh your hungry stomach than these can 



FABLE XX. 117 

afford you, and I think myself a banquet much 
more proper to regale you.' The Camel, on this, 
unwilling to appear less affectionate than the rest, 
when it came to his turn, **AI1 you three," sai.I 
he, " are not enough to satisfy the King's hunger ; 
but, though he had not eaten a mouthful these 
three davs, I alone am sufficient to restore him to 
his health." Then said all the rest, ** This Camel 
speaks reason ; his flesh is excellent, dainty, and 
worth your Majesty's taste. How happy will he 
be to leave to posterity such an example of zeal 
and generosity !" And, so saying, they all fell 
upon him, and tore him to pieces, before he could 
speak another word. 

^*This Fable shows you, that when several 
conspirators combine together in the contrivance 
of an enterprise, they easily bring it to pass." 
**You are perfectly in the right," said Damna; 
'^and, for my part, were I in your condition, I 
would defend my life ; and, if I must perish, fall 
like a warrior, not like a victim of justice at the 
gallows. He that dies with his sword in his 
hand, renders himself famous. It is not good 
to begin a war ; but, when we are attacked, it is 
Ignominious to surrender ourselves cowardly into 
the enemy's hand." *' This is right and proper 
counsel," replied Cohotorbe ; " but we ought to 
know our strength before we engage in a combat; 



118 I ABLE XXI. 

dently, we may, too late perhaps, remember the 
famous story of the Angel Ruler of the Sea, 
,vhich I will tell you," 



THE ANGEL RULER OF THE SEA, AND TWO 
BIRDS, CALLED GERANDI.* 



Two birds, of that kind called Gerandi, con- 
tinued Cohotorbe, once lived together upon the 
shores of the Indian sea. After they had long 
enjoyed the pleasures of conjugal affection, when 
it was near the season for laying eggs, said the 
Female to the Male, *' It is time for me to choose 
a proper place wherein to produce my young 
ones." To whom the Male replied, '* This where 
we now are is, I think, a very good place." 
'^ No," replied the Female, " this cannot do ; for 
he sea may hereafter swell beyond these bounds, 
and the waves carry away my eggs." '^ That 
can never be," said the Male, " nor dares the 
Angel Ruler of the Sea do me an injury ; for, if 
he should, he knows I would certainly call him 
to an account/^ '* You must never boast," re- 
plied the Female, " of a thing which you are not 



* Gerandi are birds of the East Indies, which lay their 
eggs in the sands on the sea-shore, and sit four weeks. 




The Tortoise and two Ducks. 



Page 119. 



FABLE XXII. 1 19 

able to perforra. What comparison is there be- 
tween you and the prince of the sea ? Take my 
advice; avoid sucli quarrels: and, if you despise 
my admonitions, beware you are not ruined by 
your obstinacy. Remember the misfortune that 
befell the Tortoise." " It is a story I have not 
heard," replied the Male ; '^ pray tell it me." 



THE TORTOISE AND TWO DUCKS. 

There was a Tortoise, continued the Female, 
that lived in a pond with some Ducks, her old 
companions, in full content and great felicity for 
many years. But at length there happened so 
dry a season, that there was at last no water in 
the pond. The Ducks, upon this, finding them- 
selves constrained to remove to some other habi- 
tation, went to the Tortoise to take their leaves 
of him. The Tortoise, in terror for his impend- 
ing destruction, upbraided them for leaving him 
in the time of his calamity, and besought them 
to carry him along with them. To whom the 
Ducks replied, '* Be assured it is a great trouble 
to us that we must leave you in this condition; 
but we are constrained to it for our own pre- 
servation : and as to what you propose to us, to 
take you with us, we have a long journey to 



120 FAr^LE XXII. 

make, and you can never follow us, because you 
cannot fly. On this condition, however, it is 
possible for us to save you, if you can only be 
enough your own friend to follow our advice, and 
keep a strict and perfect silence ; and, on this 
condition, if you will promise us not to speak a 
word by the way, we will carry you. But we 
shall meet with some that will talk to us, and 
then it is ten to one but you will be twattling ; 
and if you are, remember that we now tell you 
beforehand, it will be your destruction.'* '* No;" 
answered the Tortoise, ** fear me not ; I will do 
whatever you will have me." Things being thus 
settled, the Ducks ordered the Tortoise to take a 
little stick and hold it by the middle fast in his 
mouth ; and then, exhorting him to keep steady, 
they took the stick by each end, and so raised 
him up. Thus they carried him along in triumph; 
but it was not long before, as they flew over a 
village, the inhabitants, wondering at the novelty 
of the sight, fell a shouting with all their might ; 
this made such a noise, that the Tortoise grew 
impatient to be twatlling ; and, at length, not 
being able to keep silence any longer, he was 
going to wish the people's mouths sewed up, 
for making such a clamour ; but, as soon as 
he opened his mouth to vent his curses, he let 
go the stick, and so fell to the ground and killed 
himself. 



FABLE XMl. 121 

*^ This example shows us, spouse/' said the 
female Gerandi, " that we ought not to despise 
the exhortations of iriends." ** I have heard your 
Fable," said the Male, ** and all that I shall say in 
answer to it is this : They who want courage are 
no way capable of great performances. Be go- 
verned by me ; I have as earnest a desire of pre- 
serving our young ones as yourself, yet I am bold 
to say, let us hatch our young ones in this place ; 
and be assured, that the Angel Ruler of the Sea 
dares do us no harm/' The Female, on this, 
obeyed, and built her nest accordingly in the 
sand by the sea-side. But, within a day or two 
after, the ocean swelling, the waves overturned 
the nestj and the Ruler of the Sea took the eggs. 
The Female, on this misfortune, addressing her- 
self to the Male, said, '* I told you that you were 
too vain-glorjous to dare to outbrave a power 
which it becomes you rather to revere ; but, now 
he has done this injury, let us see how you wilj 
revenge yourself." *' Depend upon it,'^ replied the 
Male, *' I will make him restore your eggs.'^ And, 
so saying, without delay he flew to all the birds, 
one after another, told them the story, and craved 
their aid to revenge himself upon the Ruler of the 
Sea. All the birds promised their succour to the 
Gerandi, and went with him to the Griffin, and 
threatened to acknowledo-e him no lono:er for 
their King if he did not head them in this enter- 
prise. The Griffin, as tenacious of the rights of 

M 



122 FABLE XXTI. 

his subjects, as revengeful in his own nature, rea- 
dily engaged in the war, and immediately flew 
before them, and they beset the Ruler of the Sea's 
palace ; who, seeing such an infinite number of 
birds, in great terror and affright, came out to 
them, and restored the eggs. 

*'An enemy/' said Damna, '* I very well know, 
is at no time to be despised/^ '* However," re- 
plied Cohotorbe, '' I will not begin the combat ; 
but, if the Lion attack me, I will endeavour to 
defend myself." ^' Well," answered Damna, ** that 
you may know when to be upon your guard, let 
me give you this caution : when you see him lash 
the ground with his tail, and roll his eyes angrily 
about, you may be sure he will immediately be 
upon you." ^' I thank you for your advice," re- 
plied Cohotorbe ; *' and when I observe the signs 
which you have, so like a friend, informed me of, 
I shall prepare myself to receive him." 

Here they parted ; and Damna, overjoyed at 
the success of his enterprise, ran to Kalila, who 
asked him how his design went forward. " I 
thank my fates," cried Damna, "I am just going 
to triumph over my enemy." After this short 
confabulation, the two Foxes went to court, where 
soon after Cohotorbe arrived. 

The Lion no sooner beheld him, but he thought 
him guilty : and Cohotorbe, casting his eyes upon 
the Lion, made no question, from what he saw. 



FABLE XXIII. 123 

but that his Majesty had resolved his ruin : sc 
that both the one and the other manifesting thos.^ 
signs which Damna had described to each, there 
began a most terrible combat, wherein the Lion 
killed the Ox, but not, however, without a great 
deal of trouble and hazard. When all was over, 
" O ! what a wicked creature thou art f ' cried 
Kalila to Damna ; " thou hast here, for thine own 
sake, endangered the King's life : thy end will 
be miserable for contriving such pernicious de- 
signs ; and that which happened to a cheat, who 
was the cully of his own knaveries, will one day 
befall thee.*' 



rWO YOUNG MERCHANTS, THE ONE CRAFTY, AND 
THE OTHER WITHOUT DECEIT. 

Two young merchants once left their country, to 
travel together upon the account of trade : the 
one was called Sharpwit, the other Simpleton. 
These two, in one of their first journeys, by acci- 
dent found a bag full of money ; oi> which^ said 
Sharpwit to his companion, "Travelling, I be- 
lieve, in truth, is very profitable, but it is also 
very painful ; therefore, brother, let us be con- 
tented with this money which fortune has thrown 
into our way, without fatiguing ourselves any 
more." Simpleton consenting to this, they left off 
their designs of travelling, and returned both to 



124 FABLE XXIII. 

their lodging. Before they parted. Simpleton be- 
thought himself of dividing what they had found, 
to the end they might be both at their own li- 
berty. " But," said Sharpwit, " no, brother, be- 
lieve me, it IS much better to put it into a safie 
place, and every day to take something out of 
the stock for our occasions, without bringing the 
whole of our several fortunes into separate danger." 
To this Simpleton answered, that he very well 
approved of his proposal ; and, accordingly, they 
hid the money, taking each of them only a small 
sum for their particular expenses. The next day, 
however, Sharpwit went where the money lay, 
and having taken it away, returned home. On 
the other hand, Simpleton thought not of going to 
the hoard while his little stock lasted ; but when 
he had expended all that he had, he went to Sharp- 
wit's lodging, and meeting with him, " Come," 
said he, *' let us go together, and take out such 
another sum as we took out before." "Content," 
answered Sharpwit; *' for I have spent all my 
stock, and want money." So they went both to- 
gether ; but when they came to the place where 
the money had been hid, behold the birds were 
flown. Sharpwit, on this, threw himself on the 
ground, tore his hair, rent his clothes, and weep- 
ing to his companion, ** Why hast thou dealt so 
unkindly with thy friend?" said he, ^' for nobody 
but you could take away the money, since nobody 
else knew where it was hid." It was in vain for 



FABLE XXIII. 125 

Simpleton to swear he had not taken it away : 
the other still feigned to be assured of the con 
trary, and wickedly, not contented with robbing 
his brother of all he had, was for having him lose 
his life by false accusations, that he might be sure 
to have no more fear of his finding him out. What 
will not the wicked thirst after money compel us 
to? To conclude, at length, they went both before 
a judge, before whom Sharp wit, after he had re- 
lated the whole story, how they found the money, 
and how they agreed to hide it, accused Simple- 
ton of having stolen it. The judge called pre- 
sently for witnesses to prove the robbery ; to 
which Sharpwit replied, '* I have no other wit- 
nesses but the tree that grows next the place ; 
and I hope God, who is just, will suffer the dumb 
tree to give testimony of the truth." The judge, 
admiring to hear the man talk at such a rate, re- 
solved to see the issue of the business, and accept- 
ing the tree for a witness, promised the next day 
to take a walk to the tree and examine it : and so 
the two merchants went home. In the mean time 
Sharpwit told his father the whole story, assuring 
him withal, that he had no hope but in him, 
when he took the tree for his evidence. *' And if 
you will but act your part," added he, '' we shall 
have the sum which I have taken to ourselves, 
and as much more from the party accused upon 
his condemnation, which will serve us very well 
the remainder of our days." His father, on this, 

M 2 



126 FABLE XXIV. 

asked him what he was to do. '* Why, sir,'* re- 
ph'ed the son, "you must go into the tree in the 
evening, and lie there all night, to the end that, 
when the judge comes betimes in the morning, 
you may give testimony according to the custom." 
'^O son ! '* said the Father, '* leave off these 
schemes of knavery, for though thou mayst de- 
ceive men, thou canst never deceive the Almighty; 
and I am afraid thy fortune will have the same 
success as that of the Frog." 



TflE FROG, THE CRAY-FISH, AND THE SERPENT. 

There was once a Frog which had her habitation 
in the neighbourhood of the hole of a Serpent 
who every time she brought forth young ones, eat 
them up ; this put her almost beside her wits ; 
and one day going to pay a visit to a Cray-fish, 
that was one of her gossips, in the anguish of her 
heart she uttered many bitter imprecations against 
the Serpent, and made her the confidant of her 
grievances. The Cray-fish put her in good heart, 
assuring her that a way might be found out to rid 
her from such a pernicious neighbour. " You 
will oblige me, indeed," said the Frog, " if you 
will teach me that.'* *' Hark you then," replied 
the Cray-fish ; *' there is in such a place one of 
my comrades, who is very large, and indeed a 




The Frog, the Cray-Fish, and the Serpent. 

Page 126. 



FABLE XXIV. 127 

monster among us ; take you a sufficient number 
of little minnows, and lay them all in a row from 
the Cray-fish's hole to the Serpent's lodging ; for 
the Cray-fish that I tell you of will certainly snap 
them up all, one after another, till he comes 
where the Serpent hes, who will come forth upon 
the noise, and then the Cray-fish will devour him 
too/' The Frog followed this advice, and tasted 
the sweet pleasure of revenge. But two days 
after, the Cray-fish that had eaten the Serpent, 
thinking to find more, went hunting in the same 
neighbourhood, and soon fell upon the place 
where the Frog was now hatching another brood, 
and eat up not only all her young ones, but her- 
self also. 

" You see by this Fable, '* concluded he, " that 
deceivers are often deceived.'' " Father " said the 
son, " let me entreat you to leave off this idle dis- 
course ; we have no time for talking, but must 
conclude either to earn the money, or go with- 
out it.'* Upon this, the old man, who was co- 
vetous enough, not able to dissuade his son, sub- 
mitted, and went and hid himself in the tree. 
The next day, betimes in the morning, the judge 
made haste to the tree, accompanied by a great 
number of persons of wit and penetration, and a 
great crowd of others that desired to be witnesses 
of this new way of accusation. After some cere- 
monies, the judge asked the tree, '' Whether it 



i28 FABLE XXIV. 

were true that Simpleton had taken the money in 
dispute?" Presently he heard a voice that an- 
swered, ^* Yes, — he is guilty of what he is ac- 
cused." This somewhat astonished the judge at 
first ; but afterwards, surmising that there might 
be somebody in the tree, ordered all the boughs 
round about the tree to be heaped together, and 
set on fire. Upon v/hich the poor old man, after he 
had endured the heat as long as he could, cried 
out, ** Mercy! mercy!" and being then lifted 
out of the tree, confessed the truth, made mani- 
fest the innocence of Simpleton, and Sharpwit's 
wickedness ; for which he was punished as he 
deserved, while all the money was taken from the 
accuser, and given to the party accused. 

*^ I have recited this example to you," said Ka- 
lila, " to show you, that there is nothing like act- 
ing with uprightness and sincerity." *' You are to 
blame," said Damna, *' to call wit by the name of 
knavery, and the care of a man's own interests by 
the appellation of artifice : for my part, I am apt 
to think that I have showed nothing but wit and 
judgment in my whole conduct." ** Thou art a 
wicked creature," cried Kalila ; *' nor will I any 
longer listen to thee, or live with thee ; thou 
teachest such wicked maxims, that those who 
frequent thy company, I am afraid, will come to 
the same end with a certain Gardener, of whom 
I will tell thee a remarkable history." 



FABLE XXV. 129 



THE GARDENER AND THE BEAR. 

There was once, in the eastern parts of our 
country, a Gardener, who loved gardening to that 
degree, that he wholly absented himself from the 
company of men, to the end he might give him- 
self up entirely to the care of his flowers and 
plants. He had neither wife nor children ; and 
from morning till night he did nothing but work 
in his garden, so that it lay like a terrestrial pa- 
radise. At length, however, the good man grew 
weary of being alone, and took a resolution to 
leave his garden in search of good company. 

As he was, soon after, walking at the foot of 
a mountain, he spied a Bear, whose looks had in 
them nothing of the savage fierceness natural to 
that animal, but were mild and gentle. This 
Bear was also weary of being alone, and came 
down from the mountain, for no other reason but 
to see whether he could meet with any one that 
would join society with him. So soon, therefore, 
as these two saw each other, they began to have 
a friendship one for another ; and the Gardener 
first accosted the Bear, who, in return, made him 
a profound reverence. After some compliments 
passed between them, the Gardener made the 
Bear a sign to follow him ; and carrying him into 
his garden, regaled him with a world of very de- 
licious fruit, which he had carefully preserved; 



130 FABLE XXV, 

SO that at length they entered into a very strict 
friendship together; insomuch, that when the 
Gardener was weary of working, and lay down to 
take a little nap, the Bear, out of affection, stayed 
all the while by him, and kept off the flies from 
his face. One day as the Gardener lay down to 
sleep at the foot of a tree, and the Bear stood by, 
according to his custom, to drive away the flies, 
it happened that one of those insects did light 
upon the Gardener's mouth, and still as the Bear 
drove it away from one side, it would light on the 
other; which put the Bear into such a passion, 
that he took up a great stone to kill it. It is true 
he did kill the fly ; but at the same time he broke 
out two or three of the Gardener's teeth. From 
whence men of judgment observe, That it is bet- 
ter to have a prudent enemy, than an ignorant 
friend. 

" This example shows, that we should take care 
whom we are concerned with ; and I am of opi- 
nion that your society is no less dangerous than 
the company of the Bear/' '* This is an ill com- 
parison," replied Damna ; " I hope I am not so 
ignorant, but that I am able to distinguish be- 
tween what is baneful and what it beneficial to 
my friend." *' Why, I know very well, indeed," 
replied Kahla, *' that your transgressions are not 
the failings of ignorance ; but I know too that 
you can betray your friends, and that, when you 



FABLEXXVI 131 

do SO, it is not without long premeditation ; wit- 
ness the contrivances you made use of to set the 
Lion and the poor Ox together by the ears : but, 
after this, I cannot endure to hear you pretend 
to innocence. In short, you are like the man 
that would make his friends believe that rats eat 
iron/* 



THE MERCHANT AND HIS FRIEND. 

A CERTAIN Merchant, said Kalila, pursuing her 
discourse, had once a great desire to make a 
long journey. Now in regard that he was not 
very wealthy, it is requisite, said he to himself, 
that before my departure I should leave some 
part of my estate in the city, to the end that if I 
meet with ill luck in my travels, I may have 
wherewithal to keep me at my return. To this 
purpose he delivered a great number of bars of 
iron, which were a principal part of his wealth, in 
trust to one of his friends, desiring him to keep 
them during his absence; and then, taking his 
leave, away he went. Some time after, having 
had but ill luck in his travels, he returned home ; 
and the first thing he did was to go to his Friend, 
and demand his iron : but his Friend, who owed 
several sums of money, bavins: sold the iron to 



132 FABLE XXVI. 

pay his own debts, made him this answer : 
" Truly, friend," said he, ^' I put your iron into 
a room that was close locked, imagining it would 
have been as secure there as my own gold ; 
but an accident has happened which nobody 
could have suspected, for there was a rat in the 
room eat it all up." The Merchant, pretending 
ignorance, replied, ** It is a terrible misfortune to 
me indeed ; but 1 know of old that rats love iron 
extremely ; I have suffered by them many times 
before in the same manner, and therefore can the 
better bear my present affliction." This answer 
extremely pleased the Friend, who was glad to 
hear the Merchant so well inclined to believe that 
the rats had eaten his iron ; and to remove all 
suspicions, desired him to dine with him the next 
day. The Merchant promised he would, but in 
the mean time he met in the middle of the city 
one of his Friend's children ; the child he carried 
home, and locked up in a room. The next day 
he went to his Friend, who seemed to be in great 
affliction, which he asked him the cause of, as if 
he had been perfectly ignorant of what had hap- 
pened. ^* Oh, my dear friend," answered the 
other, '* I beg you to excuse me, if you do not see 
me so cheerful as otherwise I would be ; I have 
lost one of my children ; I have had him cried by 
sound of trumpet, but I know not what is become 
of him." ** Oh !" replied the Merchant, ** I am 
grieved to hear this ; for yesterday in the even- 



FABLE XXVX. 133 

ing, as I parted from hence, I saw an owl in tlie 
air with a child in his claws ; but whether it were 
yours I cannot tell." *' Why, you most foolish 
and absurd creature!" replied the Friend, ** are 
you not ashamed to tell such an egregious lie? 
An owl, that weighs at most not above two or 
three pounds, can he carry a boy that weighs 
above fifty?" "Why," replied the Merchant, 
" do you make such a wonder at that ? as if in a 
country where one rat can eat an hundred ton 
weight of iron, it were such a wonder for an owl 
to carry a child that weighs not above fifty 
pounds in all." The Friend, upon this, found 
that the Merchant was no such fool as he took 
him to be, begged bis pardon for the cheat which 
he designed to have put upon him, restored him 
the value of his iron, and so had his son again. 

"This Fable shows," continued Kalila, ^Uhat 
these fine-spun deceits are net always success- 
ful; but as to your principles, I can easily see 
that if you could be so unjust as to deceive the 
Lion, to whom you were so much indebted for a 
thousand kindnesses, you will with much more 
confidence put your tricks upon those to whom 
you are less obHged. This is the reason why I 
think your company is dangerous." 

While Damna and Kalila where thus confabu- 
lating together, the Lion, whose passion was now 
over, made great lamentations for Cohotorbe, 

N 



134 



FABLE XXVI, 



saying-, that he began to be sensible of his loss, 
because of his extraordinary endowments. ** 1 
know not,'' added he, " whether I did ill or well 
in destroying him, or whether what was reported 
of him was true or false/' Thus musing for a 
while in a studious melancholy, at length he re- 
pented of having punished a subject, who might, 
for aught he knew, be innocent. Damna, ob- 
serving that the Lion was seized with remorse of 
conscience, left Kalila, and accosted the King 
with a most respectful humility : " Sir," said he, 
''what makes your Majesty so pensive? Con. 
sider that here your enemy lies at your feet ; and 
Rk your eyes upon such an object with delight.'* 
' When I think upon Cohotorbe's virtues,'' said 
the Lion, " I cannot but bemoan his loss. He 
was my support and my comfort, and it was by 
his prudent counsel that my people lived in re- 
pose." " This indeed was once the case," replied 
Damna; *'but his revolt was therefore the more 
dangerous ; and I am grieved to see your Majesty 
bewail the death of an unfaithful subject. It is 
true he was profitable to the public ; but in re- 
gard he had a design upon your person, you have 
done no more than what the wisest have already 
advised, which is to cut off a member that would 
prove the destruction of the whole body." These 
admonitions of Damna's for the present gave the 
Lion a little comfort ; but notwithstanding all, 
Cohotorbe's innocence crying continually after- 



FABLE XXVI. 135 

wards in the Monarch's breast for vengeance, 
roused at last some thoughts in him, by which he 
found means to discover the long chain of vil- 
lanies Damna had been guilty of. He that will 
reap wheat must never sow barley. He only that 
does good actions, and thinks just thoughts, will 
be happy in this world, and cannot fail of rewards 
and blessings in the other. 



CHAPTER III. 



THAT THE WICKED COME TO AN ILL END. 



" I HAVE with great attention and delight," said 
Dabschehm, '* now heard the history of a syco- 
phant, who by his flatteries deceived his prince^ 
and was the cause that he wronged his minister i 
tell me therefore now, how the Lion came to dis- 
cover Damna's infidelities, and what was the end 
of this cunning and most wicked Fox ?*' 

'^ Kings,'* answered the old Bramin, ^* are by 
no means to give any credit to the various re- 
ports that are whispered in their ears, till they 
understand whether the stories which they hear 
proceed from the lips of friends or enemies. It is 
with great delight that I have observed your Ma- 
jesty's attention to what I have been relating, and 
now shall joyfully proceed to give the account of 
those things which you yet desire to know. 
Some time after the Lion had killed the Ox, he 
was, as I have already observed, very much trou- 
bled in his mind ; the reflections that he continu- 



FABLE I. 137 

ally made upon the good services which the Ox 
had done him, phmged him into so deep a melan- 
choly, that he abandoned the care of his do- 
minions and his court became a wilderness. He 
talked without intermission of Cohotorbe's rare 
endowments ; and the good character which 
others gave him was the only consolation which 
his grief would admit One night, as he was 
engaged in discourse with the Leopard concern- 
ing the virtues of the Ox ; " Your Majesty," said 
the Leopard, '' too heavily afflicts yourself for a 
thing which it is impossible to remedy : and suffer 
me to remind your Majesty, that he that turmoils 
himself to seek what he cannot find, not only 
never acquires what he seeks, but instead of that 
loses what he has ; as the Fox once lost a hide, in 
hopes of getting a Hen which he longed for : It 
is a remarkable story, and if your Majesty will 
give me permission, I will relate it to you." 



THE FOX, THE WOLF AND THE RAVEN. 

A CERTAIN Fox that was ranging about in search 
of food, found once a large piece of a raw hide 
which some wild beast or other had let fall ; he 
eat one part of it, and took the rest with a design 
to carry it to his hole ; but in his way near a vil 
iage he spied several Hens that were plump and 

N 2 



138 FABLE II. 

fat, which a certain boy set to watch them had 
always in liis eye. These dainties set the Fox's 
teeth a watering to that degree, that he left his 
raw hide, which he was sure of, to get one of 
these delicate morsels. At the same instant came 
a Wolf up to him, and asked him what he gazed 
after with so much earnestness. ** Those Hens 
that you see yonder/' answered the Fox ; " I 
would fain have one of them for my second 
course.'' *' You will only lose your time," re- 
plied the Wolf, " in attempting it ; they are 
guarded by so vigilant a servant, that it is impos- 
sible for you to get near them, without running a 
manifest hazard. Take my advice therefore, con- 
tent yourself with your piece of raw hide, for 
fear you meet with the same hard fortune that 
once befell the Ass, who, while he was looking 
after his tail, lost his ears." 



THE ASS AND THE GARDENER. 

A CERTAIN Ass, continued he, had once by some 
accident lost his tail, which was a grievous af- 
fliction to him ; and as he was everywhere seek- 
ing after it, being fool enough to think he could 
set it on again, he passed through a meadow, and 
afterwards got into a garden. The Gardener 
seeing him, and not able to endure the mischief 



FABLE II. 139 

he was doing in trampling down his garden, fell 
into a violent rage, ran to the Ass, and never 
standing on the ceremony of a pillory, cut off both 
his ears, and beat him out of the ground. Thus 
the Ass, who bemoaned the loss of his tail, was 
in far greater affliction when he saw himself 
without ears : and believe me, that, in general, 
whoever he be that takes not reason for his guide, 
wanders about, and at length falls into precipices. 

The Fox, however, was still eagerly impor- 
tuned by his extraordinary longing after a tit-bit. 
^* What come you hither for," said he to the Wolf, 
** to trouble me with your morals and your fables? 
I will let you see, that he who has courage scorns 
the terror of such examples, and dares do any- 
thing.'* So saying, he advanced slyly toward the 
Hens, leaving his piece of raw hide ; and the 
Wolf, finding that his admonitions would do no 
good, went about his business. In the mean time 
the Fox crept softly toward his feathered prey ; 
but the boy perceiving his thievish intention^ 
threw a large stone so luckily at him, that he hii 
him on the foot. The poor Fox, afraid lest the 
boy should reach his pate next time, returned 
with much more haste than he came, resolved to 
be contented with his piece of raw hide. But, alas I 
that was gone too ; for a Raven coming by at the 
same time, had carried it away ; and the Fox 
could now have torn his own flesh for madness 



140 FABIE II, 

^* You see, sir/* joursued the Leopard, *' by 
these stories, the misfortunes that attend rash and 
inconsiderate enterprises : and permit me to add, 
that your Majesty ought never to despair, nor 
abandon the government of your dominions for 
the loss of one subject." On this the Lion for a 
while stood mute, but then recovering his speech, 
*' You say true,^' said he ; '* but if I do not this, 
I would at least ease my troubled mind, and 
strongly revenge Cohotorbe's death, if I could 
find that he had been unjustly accused." *' This 
is a just and a noble intent," replied the Leopard ; 
^' but, sir, desponding is not the way to attain 
your end : you must carefully examine whether 
the complaints that were brought you of his mis- 
carriages were true or not. If he was guilty, he 
has been deservedly punished ; if not, the accuser 
ought to feel your severity." Then said the Lion 
to the Leopard, ** I appoint thee my searcher of 
the truth on this occasion, and entreat thee to do 
all thou canst to find it out." 

Now, in regard it was by this time late, the 
Leopard for the present took his leave of the 
Lion : but in his way to his lodging, passing by 
Kalila and Damna's apartment, he thought he 
heard them discoursing together. The Leopard 
had long suspected Damna to be no less wicked 
than indeed he was, and his curiosity therefore led 
him to go near and listen. Kalila, as fortune 
would have it, was at this very time upbraiding 




"^^^^fe/^s^" 



The Prince and his Minister. 



Page 141. 



FABLE III. 141 

her husband with his perfidiousness, his dissimu- 
lation, and all the artifices he had made use of to 
ruin Cohotorbe. The Leopard, fully informed by 
her reproaches of Damna's treason, went imme- 
diately away to the Lion's mother, to whom he 
related what he had heard ; and she presently 
hastening to her son, cried to him, "You have 
reason indeed to be afflicted for the loss of Co- 
hotorbe your favourite, for he died innocent." 
*' What proof have you of this?" demanded the 
Lion, eagerly. ** Pardon me," answered the Mo 
ther, *' if I am not so hasty to reveal a secret 
which may, if too suddenly related to you, in- 
flame your anger to too high a degree, and preju- 
dice the person that has intrusted me. But I be 
seech you to listen to this Fable." 



THE PRINCE AND HIS MINISTER. 

There was once a Prince who was very much 
famed throughout all these countries ; he was a 
great conqueror, and was potent, rich, and just. 
One day as he rode a hunting, said he to his 
Minister, " Put on thy best speed, I will run my 
horse against thine, that we may see which is the 
swiftest : I have a long time had a strange desire 
to make this trial." The Minister, in obedience 
to his master, put on his horse, and rode full 



142 FABLE III. 

speed, and the King followed him. But when 
they were got at a great distance from the gran- 
dees and nobles that accompanied them, the 
King, stopping his horse, said to his Minister, 
'^ I had no other design in this, but to bring thee 
to a place where we might be alone ; for I have a 
secret to impart to thee, having found thee more 
faithful than any other of my servants. I have a 
jealousy that the Prince, my brother, is framing 
some contrivance against my person, and for that 
reason, I have made choice of thee to prevent 
him; but be discreet/' The Minister on this 
swore he would be true to him ; and when they 
had thus agreed, they stayed till the company 
overtook them, who were in great trouble for the 
King's person. The Minister, however, notwith- 
standing his promises to the King, upon the first 
opportunity he had to speak with the King's 
brother, disclosed to him the design that was 
brewing to take away his life. And this obliged 
the young Prince to thank him for his informa- 
tion, promise him great rewards, and take some 
precautions in regard to his own safety. 

Some few days after the King died, and his 
brother succeeded him : but when the Minister 
who had done him this signal service, expected 
now some great preferment, the first thing he did 
after he was advanced to the throne, was to order 
him to be put to death. The poor wretch imme- 
diately upbraided him with the service he had 



FABLE in. 143 

done him. " Is this,'' said he, ** the recompense 
for my friendship to you ? this the reward which 
you promised me?'' *' Yes/' answered the new 
King, ** whoever reveals the secrets of his prince 
deserves no less than death : and since thou hast 
committed so foul a crime, thou deservest to die. 
Thou betrayedst a king who put his confidence in 
thee, and who loved thee above all his court ; how 
is it possible therefore for me to trust thee in my 
service ?" It was in vain for the Minister to al- 
lege any reasons in his own justification ; they 
would not be heard, nor could he escape the 
stroke of the executioner. 

** You see by this Fable, son," continued the 
old Lioness, that secrets are not to be disclosed." 
^* But, my dear mother," answered the King, " he 
that intrusted you with this secret desires it 
should be made known, seeing he is the first that 
makes the discovery : for if he could not keep it 
himself, how could he desire another to be more 
reserved? Let me conjure you," continued he, 
** if what you have to say be true, put me out of 
my pain." The mother seeing herself so hardly 
pressed ; '* Then," said she, •* I must inform you 
of a criminal unworthy of pardon ; for though it 
be the saying of wise men, that a king ought to 
be merciful, yet there are certain crimes that 
never ought to be forgiven. It is Damna I mean," 
pursued the matron Lioness, '* who, by his false 



144 FABLE III. 

insinuations, wrought Coliotorbe's fall.'* And 
having so said, she retired, leaving the Lion in 
a deep astonishment ; some time he pondered 
with himself on this discovery, and afterwards 
summoned an assembly of the whole court- 
Damna taking umbrage at this (as guilty con- 
sciences always make people cowards) comes to 
one of the King's favourites, and asks him if he 
knew the reason of the Lion's calling such an as- 
sembly ? which the Lion's mother overhearing, 
*' Yes/' said she, *' it is lo pronounce thy death ; 
for thy artifice and juggling politics are now, 
though too late, discovered." '' Madamj" an- 
swered Damna, ** they who render themselves 
worthy of esteem and honour at court by their 
virtues, never fail of enemies. O ! that we," 
added he, '' would act no otherwise than as the 
Almighty acts in regard to us ; for he gives to 
every one according to his desert : but we, on 
the other side, frequently punish those who are 
worthy of reward, and as often cherish those that 
deserve our indignation. How much was I to 
blame to quit my solitude, merely to consecrate 
my life to the King's service, to meet with this 
reward. Whoever," continued he, '^ dissatisfied 
with what he has, prefers the service of princes 
before his duty to his Creator, will be sure, I find, 
early or late, to repent in vain. This your lady- 
ship may see by the following story." 



FABLE IV. 145 

A HERMIT WHO QUITTED THE DESERT TO LIVE 
AT COURT. 

There was once in a remote part of his Ma- 
jesty's (my hitherto most gracious master) domi- 
nions, a certain Hermit, who had renounced the 
pleasures of the world, and led a very austere 
life in a wilderness. His virtue, in a small time, 
made such a noise in the world, that an infinite 
number of people flocked every day to visit him ; 
some out of curiosity, and others to consult him 
upon several different matters. The fame of this 
Hermit's wisdom and virtue spread every day 
more and more. The King of the country, who 
was very devout, and who loved all virtuous and 
worthy men, no sooner understood that there was 
in his kingdom a person of so much knowledge 
and goodness, but he rode to see him, made him 
a noble present, and desired that he might hear 
some of his learned and virtuous exhortations. 
On this desire of the Monarch, the Hermit began 
and laid before him a most glorious scene of true 
knowledge. '' Sir," said he, '* the Almighty Go- 
vernor of the universe has two habitations, the 
one perishable, which is the world ; the other 
eternal, which is the abode of the blessed here- 
after. It is not for your Majesty, therefore, to 
dote upon the fehcities of the earth ; you ought 
to aspire to those eternal treasures, the meanest 
oart of which is of a nobler value than all the 



146 



FABLE IV. 



principalities of the world : try then, sacred sir, 
with earnestness, to attain the possession of those 
eternal blessings, and you shall not lose the re- 
ward of your endeavours." The Monarch, on 
this, demanded by what assiduities they might be 
acquired : " By a series of virtuous actions alone/' 
replied the Hermit ; '* particularly by relieving the 
poor and succouring the distressed ; for of this 
be ever mindful : all princes that desire to enjoy 
eternal repose, must labour to give temporal 
tranquillity to their subjects/' 

The King was so taken with this discourse, 
that he took up a resolution to spend some hours 
with this good Hermit every day, and so for the 
present returned to his palace. Long continued 
he every day his visit to this oracle of truth : 
among the rest, one day, as the King and the 
Hermit were together in the hermitage, they saw 
a confused multitude of people thronging toward 
them, and rending the air with the loud cries of 
Justice, justice. The Hermit went to the door 
of the cave, and bade them draw near ; examined 
them, and, having understood their differences, 
made a quick and peaceful accommodation be- 
tween them, sending them away all praying for 9 
thousand blessings on him. The King, upon this 
admiring the Hermit's prudence and despatch, de- 
sired him that he woul favour him so far, as for 
the sake of the public good, sometimes to leave 
his tranquil abode for a few hours, and be pre- 
sent in his councils. The Hermit readily agreed 



FABLE IV. 147 

to this, believing he might be beneficial to the 
poor ; and after this was frequently in those as- 
semblies; and the King ever pronounced his de- 
crees according to his judgment, insomuch, that 
at length he became so necessary, that nothing 
was done in the kingdom without his advice. 

The Hermit now beginning to find that mei 
made their addresses to him, began to forget his 
determined solitude and humility, and soon took 
upon him the rank and quality of chief minister. 
To which end he provided himself with a rich li- 
very and a numerous train. He now forgot his 
austerities, his penances, and his prayers, and 
looking upon himself as one that would be greatly 
missed in the government, took great care of his 
own person, lay soft, and fed upon the most ex- 
quisite dainties : and the King, who was very 
well satisfied with the Hermit, let him do as he 
pleased ; and, in short, discharged upon his 
shoulders the whole burden of his cares. 

One day another Hermit, a friend to him that 
lived at court, coming to visit his brother, with 
whom he had frequently spent whole nights in 
prayer, and whole days in fasting and penitence, 
was astonished to see him arrayed in costly habits, 
and environed with a great number of servants ; 
reserving his patience, however, till night locked 
up all the court in dark retirement. When all was 
hushed, he accosted the courtier Hermit in the 
most pathetic manner; ** Oh, my dear friend,'* said 



14S FABLE IV. 

he, ** in what a condition do I find you ! What 
a strange alteration is this! and what is now be- 
come of all the sanctity that you used to pretend 
to?'' The Court-Hermit would fain have excused 
himself, by saying, That he was constrained to 
keep so great a train : but his brother, who was a 
person of wit and judgment, said, "These ex- 
cuses are the dictates of sensuality ; I see that 
wealth and preferments have enchanted your de- 
votion. What demon has put you out of conceit 
with your praying life ? and why, forgetting the 
duties of a retired station, do you here prefer 
noise before silence, and tumult before ease ? '* 
*' Think not," answered the Court-Hermit, '* that 
he business of the court is any hinderance to me 
from continuing my devotions ; no, brother, I 
continue them with more than wonted fervour, 
and hourly return my humble thanks to Heaven 
for placing me in a station where I may do good 
to the world." ** You deceive yourself," replied 
the brother Hermit, ** to think that your prayers 
can be heard, while you are environed with the 
cares and pomps of the world, as they were, when 
holy and heavenly duties took up all your time : 
No, no, I adjure you therefore, take my advice, 
break these chains of gold that bind you to the 
court, and return to your desert ; otherwise, be 
assured, you will, at last, meet with the cruel 
destiny of the blind Man who despised the 
counsel of his Friend," 




The Blind Man who Travelled with one of his Friends. 

Page 149. 



FABLE V. 149 



THE BLIND MAN WHO TRAVELLED WITH ONE OF 
HIS FRIENDS. 

There were once, continued he, two Men that 
travelled together, one of whom was bhnd. 
These two companions being, in the course of 
their journey, one time, surprised by night upon 
the road, entered into a meadow, there to rest 
themselves till morning ; and as soon as day ap- 
peared, they rose, got on horseback, and conti- 
nued their journey. Now, the blind Man, instead 
of his whip, as ill fate would have it, had picked 
up a Serpent that was stiff with cold ; but having 
it in his hand, as it grew a little warm, he felt it 
somewhat softer than his whip, which pleased 
him very much ; he thought he had gained by the 
change, and therefore never minded the loss. 
In this manner he travelled some time ; but when 
the sun began to appear and illuminate the world, 
his Companion perceived the Serpent, and with 
loud cries, " Friend," said he, '' you have taken 
up a Serpent instead of your whip ; throw it out 
of your hand, before you feel the mortal caresses 
of the venomous animal ! '' But the blind Man, no 
less blind in his intellects than in his body, be- 
lieving that his friend had only jested with him 
to get away his whip, '* What !'' said he, *' do you 
envy my good luck ? I lost my whip that was 
worth nothing, and here my kind fortune has sent 

o 2 



150 FABLE V. 

me a new one. Pray do not take me for such a 
simpleton but that I can distinguish a Serpent 
from a whip/' With that his friend replied, 
** Companion, I am oUiged by the laws of friend- 
ship and humanity to inform you of your danger ; 
and therefore let me again assure you of your 
error, and conjure you, if you love your life, 
throw away the Serpent." To which the blind 
Man, more exasperated than persuaded; **Why 
do you take all this pains to cheat me, and press 
me thus to throw away a thing which you intend, 
as soon as I have done so, to pick up yourself? '* 
His Companion, grieved at his obstinacy, en- 
treated him to be persuaded of the truth, swore 
he had no such design, and protested to him that 
what he held in his hand was a real and poisonous 
Serpent. But neither oaths nor protestations 
would prevail ; the blind Man would not alter his 
resolution. The sun by this time began to grow 
high, and his beams having warmed the Serpent 
by degrees, he began to crawl up the blind Man's 
arm, which he immediately after bit in such a 
venomous manner, that he gave him his death's 
wound. 

" This example teaches us, brother," continued 
the pious Hermit, " that we ought to distrust our 
senses ; and that it is a difficult task to master 
them, when we are in possession of the thing 
that flatters our fancy." 



FABLE V. 151 

This apposite Fable, and judicious admonition, 
awakened the Court-Hermit from his pleasing 
dream : he opened his eyes, and surveyed the 
hazards that he ran at court; and bewailing the 
time which he had vainly spent in the service of 
the world, he passed the night in sighs and tears. 
His friend constantly attended him, and rejoiced 
he had made him a convert ; but, alas ! day being 
come, the new honours that were done him de- 
stroyed all his repentance. At this melancholy 
sight, the pious stranger, with tears in his eyes, 
and many prayers for his lost brother, as he ac- 
counted him, took his leave of the court, and re- 
tired to his cell. On the other hand, the courtier 
began to thrust himself into all manner of busi- 
ness, and soon became unjust, like the people of 
the world. One day, in the hurry of his affairs, 
he rashly and inconsiderately condemned to death 
a person, who, according to the laws and cus- 
toms of the country, ought not to have suffered 
capital punishment. After the execution of the 
sentence, his conscience teased him with re- 
proaches that troubled his repose for some time : 
and, at length, the heirs of the person whom 
he had unjustly condemned, with great difficulty, 
obtained leave of the King to inform against the 
Hermit, whom they accused of injustice and op- 
pression ; and the council, after mature debate 
upon the informations, ordered that the Hermit 
should suffer the same punishment which he had 



152 FABLE V. 

inflicted upon the person deceased. The Hermit 
made use of all his credit and his riches to save 
his Hfe. But all availed not, and the decree of 
the council was executed. 

** I must confess," said Damna, " that, accord- 
ing to this example, I ought long since to have 
been punished for having quitted my solitude to 
serve the King ; notwithstanding that I can 
safely appeal to Heaven, that 1 am guilty of no 
crime against any person yet." 

Damna here gave over speaking, and his elo- 
quence was admired by all the court: different 
opinions were formed of him by the different per- 
sons present ; and as for the Lion, he held down 
his head, turmoiled with so many various thoughts, 
that he knew not what to resolve, nor what an- 
swer to give. While the Lion however was in 
this dilemma, and all the courtiers kept silence, 
a certain creature, called Siagousch, who was 
one of the most faithful servants the King had, 
stepped forward, and spoke to this effect : 

'* O thou most wicked wretch, all the re- 
proaches which thou throwest upon those that 
serve kings, turn only to thy own shame ; for be- 
sides that it does no way belong to thee to enter 
into these affairs, know that an hour of service 
done to the King is worth a hundred years of 
prayers. Many persons of merit have we seen, 
that have quitted their little cells to go to court, 



FAHLE VI. 153 

where, serving princes, they have eased the 
people, and secured them from tyrannical op- 
pressions. The Fable which I am going to tell 
you may serve for a proof of what I say.'* 



A RELIGIOUS DOCTOR AND A DERVISE. 

There once lived in a certain city of Persia an 
ancient religious Doctor, who spent his life 
wholly in his proper calling, the inculcating 
true notions of virtue, piety, and religion into 
persons of all ranks. This excellent man had an 
established reputation throughout the kingdom, of 
being a very learned and virtuous man. He svas 
called Rouchan Zamir, that is to say, Clear Con- 
science. A Dervise of great fame once, pushed 
on by the motives of an extraordinary devotion, 
parted from Mauralnachos, a province of Tartary, 
to visit this religious Doctor, and to consult him 
upon some difficult questions. After much fa- 
tigue he arrived at the habitation of our Doctor. 
The Doctor himself, however, was not within ; 
but a person that he kept as a constant compa- 
nion was there, who, observing that the Dervise 
was weary, deshed him to rest himself; adding, 
that this was the hour at which the Doctor 
usually returned from court, whither he went 
every day. Here all was at once destroyed ; for 
when the Dervise heard that the religious Doctor, 



154 FABLE vr. 

Clear Conscience, intermeddled with state affairs, 
* Oh !'* cried he, *' how sorry I am to have oome 
so far, and lost my time and labour ; for 1 am 
very well assured that there is nothing to be 
learned from a man that frequents courts." With 
these words he departed from the place with a 
very ill opinion of the religious Doctor* Now 
it happened, that the Captain of the watch was 
searching about that day for a notorious robber, 
who had made his escape the night before ; and 
the King had threatened to put him to death if 
he did not find him again. The Captain meeting 
the Dervise, seized him instead of the offender 
whom he sought for, and without examining him, 
hurried him away immediately to execution. It 
was in vain for the Dervise to swear himself an 
honest man : his tale would not be heard ; and 
already the hangman had his knife ready to take 
off his head, when our religious Doctor, returning 
from court, saw the Dervise in the hands of the 
executioner. The Doctor immediately ordered 
him to be untied, affirming him to be one of his 
brethren, and that it was impossible he should 
have committed the crime of which he was ac- 
cused. The executioner made a profound rever- 
ence to the Doctor, fell upon his knee, and kissed 
his hand, and unbound the Dervise, who accom- 
panied the Doctor to his habitation. As they 
were going on, the Doctor entered on the occa- 
sion of his present manner of life with his re- 



FABLE VI. 1.05 

leased friend. ** Be not surprised,*' said he, ** that 
I spend the greatest part of my time at court : I 
live not after this manner for the sake of the va- 
nities of the world ; these, believe me, brother, 
1 have no taste for ; no, it is for nobler ends that 
I attend a court. Injustice and oppression too 
often reign there ; these I spend my labours to 
prevent, and devote my life to what I abhor, that 
I may be able to rescue the stranger from destruc- 
tion, make the distressed be relieved, and to de- 
liver from death the innocent, such as you are." 
The Dervise on this, acknowledging that he had 
made a most rash and wicked judgment, told the 
Doctor, that from that time forward, he would 
never blame those that went to court for good 
purposes. 

** By this example," added Siagousch, " we see 
that the greatest observers of the law and truest 
followers of virtue are not always banished from 
the court.'' " It is true," replied Damna, '' that 
sometimes most virtuous men do live at court; 
but it is not till after they have implored the suc- 
cour of Heaven ; because they know full well, 
that unless Heaven particularly protect them, 
they must, of necessity, ruin themselves. Besides, 
these people never come to court till they have 
absolutely laid aside all private interests, which is 
the most dangerous rock that they can split upon. 
I confess, that with a mind so free from interest, 



156 FABLE VI. 

a man may embrace all sorts of conditions. But 
we, alas ! that are not endowed with such a sub- 
lime virtue, how shall we, with safety to our- 
selves, exercise an employment so dangerous, un- 
less we have the good fortune to serve just and 
penetrating princes, who, being able to distinguish 
faithful from wicked servants, reward and punish 
them according to the rules of justice?" 

On this, the Mother of the Lion rising from 
her seat, with a look of conscious knowledge and 
disdain, said, *' Damna, we all allow the truth of 
what you have been saying ; but, know you, too, 
that the assembly sits not here but to upbraid 
thee for thy perfidy to the best of princes, and 
for destroying one of his most faithful subjects." 
'* Madam,'' replied Damna, ** I well know what it 
is your highness is pleased to hint at ; but permit 
me to clear my innocence, by answering, that his 
Majesty is not ignorant, any more than this as- 
sembly, that there never was any quarrel or dis- 
pute between the Ox and me. On the other 
hand, all the world knows, that he was obliged 
to me alone for the preferment and dignities to 
which the King's favour had advanced him. It is 
true, that I informed his Majesty of an attempt 
that was forming against his person. It was my 
duty to do this when I knew it, and I hope there 
is not one of all you present but would have done 
the same; and of this be assured, I accused none 
but the guilty, and declared nothing but what I 



FABLE VI. 157 

heard with my ears, and saw with my own eyes. 
The love and reverence I bear my most gracious 
sovereign, alone influenced me in what I have 
done : and I have this to satisfy my conscience, 
that though I have been so unhappy to destroy 
my friend, (for which, pardon me, ye most illus- 
trious assembly, but I cannot now forbear to 
weep) yet I acted without passion or interest: 
for what advantage cou)d I reap by Cohotorbe's 
death ? The favours which I have received from 
the King my master, and the duty I owe him, 
w^ould they permit me to conceal from him such a 
piece of treason ? And as for those that now ac- 
cuse me, let me silence them for ever, by declar- 
ing this sacred truth, They are only such as fear 
me, and seek my life, to the end that I should not 
discover their enterprises." 

These words Damna pronounced with such a 
constancy and presence of mind, that the Lion 
knew not what to resolve. After much delibera- 
tion, ** We must refer this cause," said he, '* to 
a select number of judges ; for it is my pleasure 
that this affair be thoroughly and carefully ex- 
amined." " Most justly ordained," cried Damna ; 
**for they who judge with precipitation commonly 
judge amiss : most gladly I submit myself to such 
a tribunal, and humbly adore your Majesty's wis- 
dom and goodness for appointing it. My inno- 
cence, I doubt not, in time, will clear itself, though 
a hasty judgment might unknowingly have pro- 

p 



368 Fable vii. 

nounced me guilty. Nothing ought to be decided, 
in things of consequence, without having a perfect 
knowledge of the whole affair; otherwise we raay 
be deluded, as the Woman was, whose adventure, 
with your Majesty's permission, I will relate to 
this august assembly/' 



THE MERCHANT S WIFE AND THE PAINTER. 

A Merchant of the city of Catchemir had once 
a very beautiful wife, who loved and was beloved 
by a Painter, who excelled in his art. These two 
lovers doted on each other to that degree, that 
they neglected no possible opportunity to be in 
each other's company. One day, said the mis- 
tress to her gallant, '* I find that when you would 
speak to me, you are constrained to make a great 
many troublesome signs, as counterfeiting your 
voice, whistling, coughing, and the like ; but I 
would have us learn some way to spare all this 
pains. Cannot you think of some invention that 
may serve us by way of a signal V ** Yes,'* replied 
the Painter ; " I have often had it in my thoughts, 
and I will now do it : I will paint two masks, the 
whiteness of one of which shall surpass the 
brightness of a star, and the blackness ot the 
other shall outvie the locks of the Moor. Wheu 
you see me come forth with one or the other of 



FABLE VII. 159 

these masks, you will know what they signify." 
The Painter's apprentice, who was no less in love 
with the woman than his master, being' in the 
next room, heard this agreement between the 
two lovers, and resolved to make his own advan- 
tage of it. Accordingly, soon after this, one day 
when his master was gone to draw some lady's 
picture in the city, he took the mask of assignation, 
and walked before the house of the Merchant's 
wife, who stood, as good fortune would have it, 
at that very time watching at the window. The 
lady no sooner saw the mask of joy, but, without 
considering either the bearer's appearance or gait, 
she came down and admitted him immediately to 
all the familiarities she was used to accommodate 
his master with. After all was over, the appren- 
tice returned home, and put the mask where he 
had it. A very httle while after this, the Painter 
being come back, took out the mask, and went to 
look for his mistress. The lady very much won- 
dered to see the mask again so soon ; but how- 
ever, with open arms, ran to meet her joy. She 
scarce opened her mouth, however, before she 
unfortunately asked him the reason of his quick 
return. The Painter, on this, smelling a rat, 
said not a word more ; but flung from her in a 
passion, flew to his apprentice, and made him pay 
dear for the pleasure he had tasted : then reflect- 
ing upon the easy condescension of the Merchant's 
wife to satisfy the desires of his servant, he broke 



160 FABLE VII. 

off all familiarity with her. Now if the woman 
had not concluded too hastily on seeing the mask, 
and yielded to the ecstacies of the apprentice, she 
had not lost so passionate, though criminal, a 
lover. 

The Lion's Mother observing that her son gave 
ear to Damna with delight, was afraid lest the 
subtle Fox should, by his eloquence, put a stop to 
the course of justice. *' Son," therefore said she 
to tlie Lion ; " my mind forbodes to me that you 
will believe Damna innocent, and that you look 
upon all those that have accused him as liars. 
I never thought," continued she, " that a King, 
who is looked upon to be the most just of 
princes, could suffer himself to be thus seduced 
by the fair words and glossing insinuations of a 
capital offender, who is endeavouring at nothing 
by all these fine stories but to deceive you, and 
to escape the rigour of the law." So saying, she 
rose up in a great passion, and retired to her own 
apartment; and the Lion, partly to pacify his 
Mother, and partly because he began to think 
Damna guilty, ordered him to be committed to a 
close prison. 

When the room was clear, his Mother returned, 
and addressing herself to her son; ** Son/' said 
she, " think me not invidious in my nature for 
thus pushing on the fate of this offender : it is 
with reluctance that I have done it, but justice to 



FABLE VIII. 161 

yourself, and to the departed innocence of Co- 
hotorbe, requires it. Guilty he unquestionably is 
in the highest degree ; but yet, when I recollect 
all circumstances of his life, I cannot conceive 
how a person of so much understanding came to 
suffer himself to be tempted to so great a crime.'* 
** Certainly," answered the King, ** this has been 
the effect of envy in him, that has made him 
commit so foul a piece of treachery ; and is a 
vice able to destroy the cunningest minds. Envy," 
pursued he, '* is a vice that keeps the thoughts in 
a perpetual motion, and torments us with conti- 
nual disquiet. Nay, so strangely detestable a 
passion is this, that there are some who bear a 
grudge even to those that do them good. This 
you may know by the following example." 



THREE ENVIOUS PERSONS THAI FOUND MONEY. 

Three Men once were travelling the same road, 
and soon by that means became acquainted. As 
they were journeying on, said the eldest to the 
rest, " Pray tell me, fellow-travellers, why you 
leave your settled homes to wander in foreign 
countries?" ''I have quitted my native soil," 
answered one, ** because I could not endure the 
sight of some people whom I hated worse than 
death : and this hatred of mine, I must confess, 

p 2 



162 FABLE VIII. 

was not founded on any injury done me by them ; 
but arose from my own temper, which, I own 
it, cannot endure to see another happy/' '* Few 
words will give you my answer," replied the 
second; "for the same distemper torments my 
breast, and sends me a rambling about the world.'* 
** Friends," replied the eldest; **then let us all 
embrace, for I find we are all three troubled with 
the same disease." On these reciprocal confes- 
sions they soon became acquainted, and, being of 
the same humour, immediately closed in an union 
together. One day as they travelled through a 
certain deep hollow way, they spied a bag of 
money, which some traveller had dropped in the 
road. Presently they alighted all three, and 
cried one to another, *'Let us share this money, 
and return home again, where we may be merry 
and enjoy ourselves." But this they only said in 
dissimulation ; for every one being unwilling that 
his companion should have the least benefit, they 
were truly each of them at a stand, whether it 
were not best to go on without meddling with 
the bag, to the end the rest might do the same ; 
being well contented not to be happy themselves, 
lest another should be so also. In conclusion 
they stopped a whole day and night in the same 
place to consider what they should do. At the 
end of which time, the King of the country riding 
a hunting with ail his court, the chase led him 
in this place. He rode up to the three men, and 



FABLE viri. 163 

asked them what they did with the money that 
lay on the ground ? And being thus surprised, 
and dreading some ill consequence if they equi- 
vocated, they all frankly told the truth. " Sir," 
said they, *' we are all three turmoiled with the 
same passion, which is envy. This passion has 
forced us to quit our native country, and still 
keeps us company wherever we go ; and a great 
act of kindness would it be in any one, if it were 
possible, that he would cure us of this accursed 
passion, which though we cannot but carry in 
our bosoms, yet we hate and abhor." " Well,'* 
said the King, ** I will be your doctor ; but be- 
fore I can do anything, it is requisite that every 
one of you should inform me truly in what de- 
gree this passion prevails over him, to the end 
that I may apply a remedy in proper propor- 
tion of strength.'* *'My envy, alas!" said the 
first, " has got such a head, that I cannot en- 
dure to do g-ocd to any man living." " You are 
an honest man in comparison with me," cried the 
second ; " for I am so far from doing good to 
another myself, that I mortally hate that any- 
body else should do another man good." Said 
the third, *'You both are children in this pas- 
sion to me ; neither of you possess the quality of 
envy in a degree to be compared with me ; for I 
not only cannot endure to oblige, nor to see any 
other person obliged, but I even hate that any 
body should do myself a kindness." The King 



164 FAr^LE VIII. 

was so astonished to hear them talk at this rate, 
that he knew not what to answer. At length, 
after he had considered some time; ** Monsters, 
and not men, that ye are,'' said he; " you deserve 
not that I should let you have the money, but 
punishment, if that can be adequate to your 
tempers." At the same time he commanded the 
bag to be taken from them, and condemned them 
to punishments they justly merited. He that 
could not endure to do good, was sent into the 
desert barefoot and without provision ; he that 
could not endure to see good done to another, had 
his head chopped off, because he was unworthy 
to live, as being one that loved nothing but mis- 
chief; and lastly, as for him that could not en- 
dure any good to be done to himself, his life was 
spared, in regard his torment was only to him- 
self; and he was put into a quarter of the king- 
dom where the people were of all others famous 
for being the best-natured, and the most addicted 
to the performance of good deeds and charitable 
actions. The goodness of these people, and the 
favours they conferred upon him from day to day, 
soon became such torment to his soul, that he 
died in the utmost anguish. 

'' By this history," continued the Lion, *'you 
see what envy is; that it is of all vices the most 
abominable, and most to be expelled out o^ all 
human society." '* Most true," replied the Mo- 



FABLE VIII. 166 

ther ; " and it is for that very reason that Damna 
ought to be put to death, since he is attainted of 
so dangerous a vice/* *^ If he be guilty," replied 
the Lion, ** he shall perish ; but that I am not 
yet well assured of; but am resolved to be before 
he is condemned." 

While matters were thus carrying on at court, 
however, Damna*s wife, moved with compassion, 
went to see him in his prison, and read him this 
curtain-lecture: ** Did I not tell you,'' said she, 
" that it behoved you to take care of going on 
with the execution of your enterprise ; and that 
people of judgment and discretion never begin a 
business till they have warily considered what 
will be the issue of it ? A tree is never to be 
planted, spouse," continued she, *' before we 
know what fruit it will produce.'* While Kahla 
was thus upbraiding Damna, there was in the 
prison a bear, of whom they were not aware, and 
who, having overheard them, resolved to make 
use of what his ears had furnished him withal, as 
occasion should direct him. 

The next day, betimes in the morning, the 
council met again, where, after every one had 
taken his place, the Mother of the Lion thus be- 
gan : *' Let us remind your Majesty," said she, 
" that we ought no more to delay the punishment 
of a capital offender than to hurry on the con- 
demnation of the innocent; and that a King 
that forbears the punishment of a malefactor, is 



166 FABLE VII. 

guilty of no less a crime than if he had been a 
confederate with him." The old lady spoke this 
with much earnestness ; and the Lion considering 
that slie spoke nothing but reason, commanded 
that Damna should be immediately brought to 
his trial. On this, the chief justice, rising from 
his seat, made the accustomed speech on such 
occasions, and desired the several members of the 
counsel to speak, and give their opinion freely, 
boldly, and honestly, in this matter ; saying withal, 
that it would produce three great advantages ; 
first, that the truth would be found out, and 
justice done ; secondly, that wicked men and 
traitors would be punished ; and thirdly, that the 
kingdom would be cleared of knaves and im- 
postors, who by their artifices troubled the repose 
of it. But, notwithstanding the eloquence of the 
judge, as nobody then present knew the depth of 
the business, none opened their mouths to speak. 
This gave Damna an occasion to defend himself 
with so much the greater confidence and intre- 
pidity. '* Sir," said he, rising slowly from his 
seat, and making a profound reverence to his 
Majesty and the court, " had I committed the 
crime of which I stand accused, I might draw 
some colour of advantage from the general si- 
lence ; but I find myself so innocent, that I wait 
with indifference the end of this assembly. Ne- 
vertheless, I must needs say this, that seeing 
nobody has been pleased to deliver his sentiments 



FABLE IX. 167 

upon this affair, it is a certain sign that all be- 
lieve me innocent. Let me not, sacred sir, be 
blamed for speaking in my own justification : I 
am to be excused in that, since it is lawful for 
every one to defend himself. Therefore,'' said he, 
pursuing his discourse, *' I beseech all this illus- 
trious company to say in the King's presence 
whatever they know concerning me ; but let me 
caution them at the same time to have a care of 
affirming anything but what is true, lest they find 
themselves involved in what befel the ignorant 
Physician ; of whom, with your Majesty's per- 
mission, I will relate the Fable." 



THE IGNORANT PHYSICIAN. 

There was once, in a remote part of the East, 
a man who was altogether void of knowledge and 
experience, yet presumed to call himself a Physi- 
cian. He was so ignorant, notwithstanding, that 
he knew not the cholic from the dropsy, nor could 
he distinguish rhubarb from bezoar. He never 
visited a patient twice ; for his first coming always 
killed him. On the other hand, there was in the 
same province another Physician of that learning 
and ability, that he cured the most desperate 
diseases by the virtue of the several herbs of the 
country, of which he had a perfect knowledge. 



168 Ff-BLE IX. 

Now this learned man became blind, and not 
being able to visit his patients, at length retired 
into a desert, there to live at his ease. The ig- 
norant Physician no sooner understood that the 
only man he looked upon with an envious eye was 
retired out of the way, but he began boldly to 
display his ignorance under the opinion of mani- 
festing his knowledge. One day the King of the 
country's daughter fell sick, upon which the 
knowing Physician was sent for; because, that 
besides he had already served the court, people 
were convinced that he was much more able 
than he that went about to set himself up in this 
pompous manner. The learned Physician being 
in the Princess's chamber, and understanding 
the nature of her disease, ordered her to take a 
certain pill composed of such ingredients as he 
prescribed. Presently they asked him where such 
and such drugs were to be had. " Formerly," 
answered the Physician, " I have seen them in 
such and such boxes in the King's treasury ; but 
what confusion there may have been since among 
those boxes I know not." Upon this the igno- 
rant Physician pretended that he knew the drugs 
very well, and that he also knew where to find and 
how to make use of them. *' Go then," said the 
King, **to my treasury, and take what is requi- 
site." Away went the ignorant Physician, and 
fell to searching for the box ; but because many 
cf the boxes were alike, and for that he knew not 



FABLE IX. 169 

the drugs when he saw them, he was not able 
to determine. On the whole, however, he rather 
chose, in the puzzle of his judgment, to take a 
box at a venture than to acknowledge his ignor- 
ance. But he never considered that they who 
meddle with what they understand not are ge- 
nerally constrained to an early repentance ; for 
in the box which he had picked out there was a 
most exquisite poison, of which he made his 
pills, and which he caused the Princess to take, 
who died immediately after : on which the King 
commanded the ignorant Physician to be appre- 
hended and condemned to death. 

** This example," pursued Darana, '* teaches us 
that no man ought to say or do a thing which he 
understands not." *' A man may, however, per- 
ceive by your physiognomy," said one of the as- 
sistants, interrupting him, " notwithstanding these 
fine speeches, that you are a sly companion, one 
that can talk better than you can act ; and there- 
fore I pronounce that there is little heed to be 
given to what you say." The judge on this asked 
him that spoke last what proof he could produce 
of the certainty of what he averred ? ** Phy- 
siognomists," answered he, ** observe, that they 
who have their eye-brows parted, their left eye 
bleared and bigger than the right, the nose turned 
toward the left-side, and who, counterfeiting your 
hypocrites, cast their eyes always toward the 

Q 



170 FAIiLR IX. 

ground, are generally traitors and sycophants ; 
and therefore Damna, having all these marks, 
from what I knew of the art, I thought I might 
safely give that character of him which I have 
done, without injury to truth." ^* Your art may 
fail you,'* replied Damna; ** for it is our Creator 
alone who forms us as he pleases, and gives us 
such a physiognomy as he thinks fitting, and for 
what purposes he best knows. And permit me to 
add, that, if what you say were true, and every 
man carried written in his forehead what he had 
in his heart, the wicked might certainly be distin- 
guished from the righteous at sight, and there 
would be no need of judges and witnesses to de- 
termine the disputes and differences that arise in 
civil society. In like manner it would be unjust 
to put some to their oaths and others to the rack, 
to discover the truth, because it might be evi- 
dently seen. And if the marks you have men- 
tioned impose a necessity upon those that bear 
them to act amiss, would it not be palpable injus- 
tice to punish the wicked, since they are not free 
in their own actions ? We must then conclude, 
according to this maxim, that if I were the cause 
of Cohotorbe's death, I am not to be punished for 
it, since I am not master of my actions, but was 
forced to it by the marks which I bear. You see, 
by this way of arguing, therefore, that your in- 
ferences are false." Damna, having thus stopped 
the assistant's mouth, nobody durst venture to 



FABLE IX. 171 

say anything more; which forced the judge to 
send him back to prison, and left the King yet 
undetermined what to think of him. 

Damna being returned to his prison, was about 
to have sent a messenger to Kalila to come to him, 
when a brother Fox that was in the room by acci- 
dent spared him that trouble, by informing him 
of Kalila's death, who died the day before for 
grief to see her husband entangled in such an un- 
fortunate affair. 

The news of Kalila's death touched Damna so 
to the quick, that, like one who cared not to live 
any longer, he seemed to be altogether comfort- 
less. Upon which the Fox endeavoured to cheer 
him up, telling him, that if he had lost c, dear 
and loving wife, he might, however, if he pleased 
to try him, find him a zealous and faithful 
friend. Damna, on this, knowing he had no 
friend left that he could trust, and for that the 
Fox so frankly proffered him his service, accepted 
his kindness. " I beseech you then,'' said Damna, 
" go to the court, and give me a faithful account 
of what people say of me : this is the first proof 
of friendship which I desire of you." 

*' Most willingly," answered the Fox ; and im- 
mediately taking his leave, he went to the court 
to see what observations he could make. 

The next morning, by break of day, the Lion's 
Mother went to her son, and asked him what he 
had determined to do with Damna ? ** He is still 



172 FABLE IX. 

in prison," answered the King ; ** and I can find 
nothing proved upon him yet, nor know I what 
to do about him." " What a deal of difTiculty is 
here," replied the Mother, 'Uo condemn a traitor 
and a villain, who deserves more punishments 
than you can inflict ; and yet I am afraid, when 
all is done, will escape by his dexterity and cun- 
ning." " I cannot blame you for being discon- 
tented with these delays," replied the King ; "tor 
I also am so, but know not how to help myself; 
and if you please to be present at his next exa- 
mination yourself, I will order it immediately, 
and you shall see what will be resolved upon.'' 
Which said, he ordered Damna to be sent for, 
that the business might be brought to a conclu- 
sion. The King's orders were obeyed, and the 
prisoner being brought to the bar, the chief jus- 
tice put the same question as the day before, 
Whether anybody had anything to say against 
Damna ? But nobody said a word ; which Damna 
observing, ** I am glad to see," said he, *' that in 
your Majesty's court there is not a single villain ; 
few sovereign princes can say as much : but here 
is a proof of the truth of it before us, in that 
there is nobody here who will bear false witness, 
though it be wished by everv one that something 
were said : and in other courts it were well if the 
same honour and honesty were Kepi up. And let 
me advise all from the villany of bearing false wit- 
ness, for their own sakes, and for fear of exposing 



FABLE X. 173 

themselves to the punishment which the Falconer 
once incurred, for having given a false testimony." 



THE VIllTUOUS WOMAN AND THE YOUNG 
FALCONER. 

A VERY honest and rich Merchant had once a 
Wife no less modest than beautiful : among the 
rest of his servants this Merchant had also a 
young lad that was very vicious ; but he could not 
find in his heart to put him away, because he was 
a good Falconer, and the Merchant greatly de- 
lighted in this diversion. Now in regard it is the 
custom of the Eastern people to keep their women 
very private ; this lad for a long time had never 
seen his mistress. But having viewed her one 
day by accident, he became passionately in love 
with her. In spite of all danger he ventured 
to court her affection, by means of a female 
friend whom he, with much trouble, got over to 
his interest. But both he and she lost all their la- 
bour; for they had lo do with a truly virtuous 
Woman. At length, despairing to prosper in his 
amours, he changed his love into hatred, and me- 
ditated a most bloody revenge. To this effect he 
cunningly went and bought two parrots ; one of 
which he taught to pronounce these words, " I saw 

q2 



174 FABLE X. 

my mistress in bed with the Falconer :" and the 
other, '* For my part, I say nothing.'* In a little 
time after these birds had learned their lesson, 
the Merchant having invited his friends to a great 
feast, when everybody was seated at the table, 
these parrots began to repeat their lesson. Now 
the Falconer had taught these parrots to speak 
the words in his own country language, which 
was different from that of the place ; and because 
the master, mistress, nor any of the servants un- 
derstood what they meant, nobody minded their 
repeating them. But this was not the case now ; 
for some of the guests, who happened to be the 
Falconer's countrymen, no sooner heard the par- 
rots, but they forbore eating, and stared with the 
utmost amazement one at another. The Mer- 
chant, astonished at this, asked them the reason 
" Do you not understand," answered the guests, 
*^ what these birds say?** *• No," replied the 
Merchant, *' Why, they say," said the guest that 
spoke first, " that your Falconer has made you 
a cuckold." The Merchant was astonished and 
confounded at these words ; and begged pardon 
of his friends for having invited them to a place 
where so much uncleanness had been committed. 
The Falconer also, the more to exasperate his 
master against his wife, confessed the fact, and 
said that it was true; which put the husband 
into so great a rage, that he ordered his wife to 
be put to death. ^ 



FABLE X. 175 

When they that were ordered to execute her 
husband's command came to her, and with great 
sorrow acquainted her with their business, she 
told them that she was ready to sutler any pu- 
nishment which her husband, who was her lord 
and sovereign master, thought fit to inflict upon 
her ; but that, as she was innocent of the crime 
she was accused of, she could have wished he 
would, for the sake of his own future peace, have 
heard her first ; for that, if her innocence should 
afterwards come to be known, his repentance 
would be then too late. This being reported to 
her husband, he sent for her into a little closet, 
whither he ordered her to come veiled, and bade 
her justify herself if she could. ** The parrots," 
said he, ^* are no National creatures, .and therefore 
cannot be accused either of imposture or bribery : 
How then will you justify yourself against what 
they accuse you of V* 

" You are bound, my dear lord, in duty and 
honour,'' answered the Wife, '^ to be well assured 
of the truth, in a case of this kind, before you 
condemn me to death ; and there is an easy way 
by which you may know it : ask those gentlemen 
whether they observe any variety of relation in 
these parrots* speech, or whether they only repeat 
the same set words over and over again. If they 
only repeat the same words, be assured they 
speak not of knowledge or design, and have only 
been taught to repeat them, and that it is a de- 



176 FABLE X. 

vice made use of by your servant to provoke 
your undeserved anger against me, because he 
could not obtain those favours from me which he 
desired, and which he has long solicited, though 
I have been so charitable to his youth as not to 
accuse him to you of it. If it be thus, let the 
weight of your anger fall on him : if otherwise, 
let me perish." The Merchant judging, by her 
prudent advice, that she might not be guilty, 
went to his guests, carried them the parrots, and 
desired them to stay with him, and diligently ob- 
serve for two or three days whether the birds 
spoke anything else besides what they had 
heard ; which the guests accordingly did. The 
result of this was, that they found the parrots 
always in the same lesson ; of which they faith- 
fully informed the Merchant, who then acknow- 
ledged the innocence of his wife, and was sen- 
sible of the malice of his servant. The Falconer 
was now sent for, and instantly appeared with his 
hawk upon his fist ; to whom the Wife, " Vil- 
lain," said she, " how didst thou dare to accuse 
me of so foul a crime ?" " Because you were 
guilty," answered the Servant. But he had no 
sooner uttered the words, when the hawk upon 
his fist flew in his face and tore out his eyes ; and 
the husband acknowledged the injustice he was 
like to have been guilty of, and on his knees im- 
plored his wife's pardon. 



FABLE X. 177 

*' This example," said Damna, pursuing his 
discourse, ** instructs us how heinous a thing it is 
to bear false witness ; and that it always turns to 
our shame and confusion. Happy therefore is 
your Majesty, who has no subject in your whole 
dominions wicked enough to be guilty of it." 
After Damna had done speaking, the Lion, look- 
ing upon his Mother, asked her opinion. *' I 
find," answered she, " that you have a kindness 
for this most cunning villain ; but believe me, he 
will, if you pardon him, cause nothing but faction 
and disorder in your court/* ** I beseech you," 
replied the Lion, ** to tell me who has so strongly 
prepossessed you against Damna." *'It is but 
too true," replied the Queen-mother, ** that he 
has committed the crime that is laid to his charge. 
1 know him to be guilty ; but I shall not now dis- 
cover the person who intrusted me with this se- 
cret. However, I will go to him, and ask him 
whether he will be willing that I should bring him 
in for a witness ;" and so saying, she went home 
immediately, and sent for the Leopard. 

When he was come : ''This villain whom you 
have accused to me,'* said she, *' will escape the 
hands of justice, unless you appear yourself 
against him. Co, therefore," continued she, '' at 
ray request, and boldly declare what thou knowest 
cor.cerning Damna. F^ar no danger in so honest 
a cause ; for no ill shall befall thee." " Madam," 
answered the Leopard, '* you know that I could 



178 FABLE X, 

Wish to be excused from this ; but you also know 
that I am ready to sacrifice my Hfe to your Ma- 
jesty's commands ; dispose of me, therefore, as 
you please ; I am ready to go wherever you com- 
mand." With that she carried the Leopard to 
the King; to whom, '* Sir," said she, "here is 
an undeniable witness which I have to produce 
against Damna." Then the Lion, addressing him- 
self to the Leopard, asked him what proof he had 
of the delinquent's treason ? *' Sir," answered the 
Leopard, " I was willing to conceal this truth, on 
purpose, for some time, to see what reasons the 
cunning traitor would bring to justify himself; 
but now it is time your Majesty knew all." On 
this the Leopard made a long recital of what had 
passed between Kalila and her husband : which 
deposition being made in the hearing of several 
beasts, was soon divulged far and near, and pre- 
sently afterwards confirmed by a Sccond testi- 
mony, which was the Bear's, of whom I made 
mention before. After this the delinquent was 
asked, what he had now to say for himself; but 
he had not a word to answer. This at length de- 
termined the Lion to sentence that Damna, as a 
traitor, should be shut up between four walls, and 
theie starved to death. 

" These Chapters," concluded Pilpay, '* may it 
please your Majesty, are lessons to deceivers and 
sycophants, that they ought to reform their man- 



FABLE X. 179 

ners ; and I think have sufficiently made it appear, 
that slanderers and railers generally come to an 
unfortunate end ; besides, that while they live 
they render themselves odious to all human so- 
ciety. He that plants thorns must never expect 
to gather roses." 



CHAPTER IV. 



EOW WE OUGHT TO MAKE CHOICE OP 
FRIENDS, AND WHAT ADVANTAGE MAY BE 
REAPED FROM THEIR CONVERSATION. 



" You have now told me," said the King, ** to ray 
infinite satisfaction, the story of a knave, who, 
under the false appearances of friendship, occa- 
sioned the death of an innocent person. I desire 
you next to inform me, what benefit may be made 
of honest men and real friends in civil life.'* 
** Your Majesty," answered the Bramin, ** is to 
know that honest men esteem and value nothing 
so much in this world as a real friend. Such a 
one is as it were another self, to whom we impart 
our most secret thoughts, who partakes of our 
joy, and comforts us in our aflfliction : add to this, 
that his company is an everlasting pleasure to us. 
But nothing can, perhaps, give your Majesty a 
clearer or nobler idea of the pleasures of a reci- 
procal friendship than the following Fable.'* 




The Raven, the Rat, and the Pigeons. 



Page 181. 



181 



THE RAVEN, THE RAT, AND THE PIGEONS. 

Near adjoining to Odorna there was once a most 
delightful place, which was extremely full of wild- 
fowl, and was therefore much frequented by the 
sportsmen and fowlers. A Raven one day accident- 
ally espied in this place, at the foot of a tree, on 
the top of which she had built her nest, a certain 
Fowler with a net in his hand. The poor Raven 
was afraid at first, imagining it was herself that 
the Fowler aimed at; but her fears ceased when 
she observed the motions of the person, who, 
after he had spread his net upon the ground, and 
scattered some corn about it to allure the birds, 
went and hid himself behind a hedge, where he 
was no sooner laid down, but a flock of Pigeons 
threw themselves upon the corn, without hearken- 
ing to their chieftain, who would fain have hin- 
dered them, telling them that they were not so 
rashly to abandon themselves to their passions. 
This prudent leader, who was an old Pigeon, 
called Montivaga, perceiving them so obstinate, 
had many times a desire to separate himself from 
them ; but fate, that imperiously controls all 
living creatures, constrained him to follow the 
fortune of the rest, so that he alighted upon the 
ground with his companions. It was not long 
after this before they all saw themselves under 
the net, and just ready to fall into the Fowler's 

R 



182 FABLE I. 

Hands. *' Well," said Montivaga on this, mourn- 
fully to them ; '* What think you now ; will you 
believe me another time, if it be possible that you 
may get away from this destruction ? '' "I see," 
continued he, perceiving how they fluttered to 
get loose, " that every one of you minds his own 
safety only, never regarding what becomes of his 
companions ; and, let me tell you, that this is not 
only an ungrateful but a foolish way of acting ; 
we ought to make it our business to help one 
another, and it may be so charitable an action 
may save us all : let us all together strive to 
break the net." On this they all obeyed Mon- 
tivaga, and so well bestirred themselves, that 
they tore the net up from the ground, and carried 
it up with them into the air. The Fowler, on 
this, viexed to lose so fair a prey, followed the 
Pigeons, in hopes that the weight of the net 
would tire them. 

In the mean time the Raven, observing all this, 
said to herself, " This is a very pleasant adven- 
ture, I am resolved to see the issue of it ;" and 
accordingly she took wing and followed them. 
Montivaga observing that the Fowler was re- 
solved to pursue them, *^ This man," said he to 
his companions, ** will never give over pursuing 
us till he has lost sight of us ; therefore, to pre- 
vent our destruction, let us bend our flight to 
some thick wood or some ruined castle, to the 
end that, when we are protected by some forest 



FABLE I. 183 

or thick wall, despair may force him to retire." 
This expedient had the desired success ; for, hav- 
ing secured themselves among the boughs of a 
thick forest, where the Fowler lost sight of them, 
he returned home, full sorely afflicted for the loss 
of his game and his net to boot. 

As for the Raven, she followed them still, out 
of curiosity to know how they got out of the net, 
that she might make use of the same secret upon 
the like occasion. 

The Pigeons, thus quit of the Fowler, were 
overjoyed ; however, they were still troubled with 
the entanglements of the net, which they could 
not get rid of: but Montivaga, who was fertile 
in inventions, soon found a way for that. ** We 
must address ourselves," said he, ** to some inti- 
mate friend, who, setting aside all treacherous 
and by-ends, will go faithfully to work for our 
deliverance. I know a Rat,'* continued he, '* that 
lives not far from hence, a faithful friend of mine, 
whose name is Zirac ; he, I know, will gnaw the 
net, and set us at liberty." The Pigeons, who 
desired nothing more, all entreated to fly to this 
friend ; and soon after they arrived at the Rat's 
hole, who came forth upon the fluttering of their 
wings ; and, astonished and surprised to see 
Montivaga so entangled in the net, '' O ! my 
dear friend," said he, ** how came you into this 
condition?'' To whom Montivaga replied, *' I 
desire you, ray most faithful friend, first of all to 
disengage my companions." But Zirac, more 



184 



FABLE I, 



troubled to see his friend bound than for all the 
rest, would needs pay his respects to him first ; 
but Montivaga cried out, " I conjure you once 
more, by our sacred friendship, to set my com- 
panions at liberty before me; for, that besides 
being their chieftain, I ought to take care for 
them in the first place, I am afraid the pains thou 
wilt take to unbind me will slacken thy good 
offices to the rest; whereas the friendship thou 
hast for me will excite thee to hasten their deliver- 
ance, that thou mayst be sooner in a condition to 
give me my freedom.'' The Rat, admiring the 
solidity of these arguments, applauded Monti- 
vaga's generosity, and fell to unloosen the stran- 
gers ; which was soon done, and then he per- 
formed the same kind office for his friend. 

Montivaga, thus at liberty, together with his 
companions, took his leave of Zirac, returning 
him a thousand thanks for his kindness. And, 
when they were gone, the Rat returned to his 
hole. 

The Raven, having observed all this, had a 
great desire to be acquainted with Zirac. To 
which end he went to his hole, and called him by 
his name. Zirac, frighted to hear a strange voice, 
asked who he was? To which the Raven an- 
swered, *' It is a Raven who has some business of 
importance to impart to thee." " What busi- 
ness," replied the Rat, '^can you and I have to- 
gether ? We are enemies." Then the Raven told 



FABLE II. 185 

him, he desired to list himself in the number of a 
Rat's acquaintance whom he knew to be so sin- 
cere a friend. ** I beseech you," answered Zirac, 
*^ find out some other creature, whose friendship 
agrees better with your disposition. You lose 
your time in endeavouring to persuade me to 
such an incompatible reconciliation.'' " Never 
stand upon incompatibilities," said the Raven, 
" but do a generous action, by affording an in- 
nocent person your friendship and acquaintance, 
when he desires it at your hands." ** You may 
talk to me of generosity till your lungs ache," re- 
plied Zirac ; " I know your tricks too well : in a 
word, we are creatures of so different a species, 
that we can never be either friends or acquaint- 
ance. The example which I remember of the 
Partridge, that overhastily granted her friendship 
to a Falcon, is a sufficient warning to make me 
wiser." 



THE PARTRIDGE AND THE FALCON. 

A Partridge, said Zirac, keeping close in his 
hole, but very obligingly pursuing his discourse, 
was promenading at the foot of a hill, and tun- 
ing her throat, in her coarse way, so delightfully, 
that a Falcon flying that way, and hearing her 
voice, came towards her, and very civilly was 

R 2 



186 FABLE II. 

going to ask her acquaintance. " Nobody," said 
he to himself, ** can live without a friend ; and it 
is the saying of the wise, that they who want 
friends labour under perpetual sickness.'' With 
these thoughts he would fain have accosted the 
Partridge ; but she, perceiving him, escaped into 
a hole, all over in a cold sweat for fear. The 
Falcon followed her, and presenting himself at 
the foot of the hole, **My dear Partridge,'* said 
he, ** I own that I never had hitherto any great 
kindness for you, because I did not know your 
merit ; but since my good fortune now has made 
me acquainted with your merry note, be pleased 
to give me leave to speak with you, that I may 
offer you my friendship, and that I may beg of you 
to grant me yours." ** Tyrant," answered the 
Partridge, *' let me alone, and labour not in vain 
to reconcile fire and water." *^ Most amiable Par- 
tridge," replied the Falcon, ** banish these idle 
fears, and be convinced that I love you, and de- 
sire that we may enter into a familiarity together : 
had I any other design, I would not trouble my 
self to court you with such soft language out of 
your hole. Believe me, I have such good pounces, 
that I would have seized a dozen other Partridges 
in the time that I have been courting your affec- 
tion. I am sure you will have reasons enough to 
be glad of my friendship ; first, because no other 
Falcon shall do you any harm while you are 
under my protection ; secondly, because that 



FABLE II. 187 

being' in my nest, you will be honoured by the 
world ; and, lastly, I will procure you a male to 
keep you company, and give you all the delights 
of love and a young progeny.*' ^' It is impossible 
for me to think that you can have so much kind- 
ness to me," replied the Partridge : **but indeed, 
should this be true, I ought not to accept your 
proposal ; for you being the prince of birds, and 
of the greatest strength, and I a poor weak Par- 
tridge, whenever I shall do any thing that dis- 
pleases you, you will not fail to tear me to pieces" 
'* No, no,*' said the Falcon, *' set your heart at 
rest for that ; the faults that friends commit are 
easily pardoned." Much other discourse of this 
kind passed between them, and many doubts were 
started and answered to satisfaction ; so that at 
length the Falcon testified such an extraordinary 
friendship for the Partridge, that she could no 
longer refuse to come out of her hole. And no 
sooner was she come forth, than the Falcon ten- 
derly embraced her, and carried her to his nest, 
where, for two or three days, he made it his 
whole business to divert her. The Partridge, 
overjoyed to see herself so caressed, gave her 
tongue more liberty than she had done before, 
and talked much of the cruelty and savage tem- 
per of the birds of prey. This began to offend 
the Falcon ; though for the present he dissembled 
it. One day, however, he unfortunately fell ill, 
which hindered him from going abroad in search 



188 FABLE II. 

of prey, so that he grew hungry; and, wanting 
victuals, he soon became melancholy, morose, 
and churlish. His being out of humour quickly 
alarmed the Partridge, who kept herself, very 
prudently, close in a corner, with a very modest 
countenance. But the Falcon, soon after, no 
longer able to endure the importunities of his 
stomach, resolved to pick a quarrel with the poor 
Partridge. To which purpose, '* It is not proper," 
said he, '^ that you should lie lurking there in the 
shade, while all the world is exposed to the heat 
of the sun," The Partridge, trembhng every joint 
of her, replied, *' King of birds, it is now night, 
and all the world is in the shade as well as I, nor 
do I know what sun you mean." " Insolent bag- 
gage," replied the Falcon, " then you will make 
me either a liar or mad:" and so saying, he fell 
upon her, and tore her to pieces. 

** Do not believe/' pursued the Rat, ** that 
upon the faith of your promises, I will lay myself 
at your mercy." '^Recollect yourself," answered 
the Raven, " and consider that it is not worth my 
while to fool my stomach with such a diminutive 
body as thine ; it is therefore with no such intent 
I am talking with thee, but I know thy friendship 
may be beneficial to me ; scruple not therefore to 
grant me this favour." ** The sages of old," re- 
plied the Rat, ** admonish us to take care of be- 
ing deluded by the fair words of our enemies, as 



FABLE III. 189 

was a certain unfortunate Man, whose story, if 
you please, I will relate to you." 



THE MAN AND THE ADDER. 

A Man mounted upon a Camel once rode into a 
thicket, and went to rest himself in that part of 
it from whence a caravan was just departed, and 
where the people having left a fire, some sparks 
of it, being driven by the wind, had set a bush, 
wherein lay an Adder, all in a flame. The fire 
environed the Adder in such a manner, that he 
knew not how to escape, and was just giving 
himself over to destruction, when he perceived 
the Man already mentioned, and with a thousand 
mournful conjurations begged of him to save his 
life. The Man, on this, being naturally compas- 
sionate, said to himself, " It is true these crea- 
tures are enemies to mankind ; however, good 
actions are of great value, even of the very 
greatest when done to our enemies ; and who- 
ever sows the seed of good works, shall reap the 
fruit of blessings.*' After he had made this re- 
flection, he took a sack, and tying it to the end 
of his lance, reached it over the flame to the 
Adder, who flung himself into it ; and when he 
was safe in, the traveller pulled back the bag, 
and gave the Adder leave to come forth, telling 



190 FABLE III. 

him he might go about his business ; but hoped he 
would have the gratitude to make him a promise, 
never to do any more harm to men, since a man 
had done him so great a piece of service. To 
this the ungrateful creature answered, '* You 
much mistake both yourself and me : think not 
that I intend to be gone so calmly ; no, my de- 
sign is first to leave thee a parting blessing, and 
throw my venom «pon thee and thy Camel.'' 
" Monster of ingratitude !*' replied the Traveller, 
*' desist a moment at least, and tell me whether it 
be lawful to recompense good with evil." *' No,' 
replied the Adder, *' it certainly is not ; but in 
acting in that manner, I shall do no more than 
what yourselves do every day ; that is to say, re- 
taliate good deeds with wicked actions, and re- 
quite benefits with ingratitude." *' You cannot 
prove this slanderous and wicked aspersion," re- 
plied the Traveller ; ** nay, I will venture to say, 
that if you can show me any one other creature 
in the world that is of your opinion, I will con- 
sent to whatever punishment you think fit to in- 
flict on me for the faults of my fellow-creatures." 
** I agree to this willingly," answered the Adder ; 
and at the same time spying a Cow, *' let us pro- 
pound our question," said he, '' to this creature 
before us, and we shall see what answer she will 
make." The Man consented; and so both of them 
accosting the Cow, the Adder put the question to 
her, How a good turn was to be requited ? " By 



FABLE III. 191 

its contrary,'* replied the Cow, ** if you mean ac- 
cording to the custom of men ; and this 1 know 
by sad experience. I belong/* said she, *' to a 
man, to whom I have long been several ways ex- 
tremely beneficial : I have been used to bring 
him a calf every year, and to supply his house 
with milk, butter, and cheese ; but now I am 
grown old, and no longer in a condition to serve 
him as formerly I did, he has put me in this pas- 
ture to fat me, with a design to sell me to a 
butcher, who is to cut my throat, and he and his 
friends are to eat my flesh : and is not this re- 
quiting good with evil?'* On this, the Adder tak- 
mg upon him to speaK, said to the Man, '' What 
say you now ? are not your own customs a suffi- 
cient warrant for me to treat you as I intend to 
do V The Traveller, not a little confounded at 
this ill-timed story, was cunning enough, how- 
ever, to answer, ^' This is a particular case only, 
and give me leave to say, one witness is not suf- 
ficient to convict me ; therefore pray let me 
have another." *' With all my heart," replied the 
Adder ; '' let us address ourselves to this Tree that 
stands here before us.'* The Tree, having heard 
the subject of their dispute, gave his opinion in 
the following words : *' Among men, benefits are 
never requited but with ungrateful actions, I 
protect travellers from the heat of the sun, and 
yield them fruit to eat, and a delightful liquor to 
drink ; nevertheless, forgetting the delight and 



192 FABLK III. 

benefit of my shade, they barbarously cut down 
my branches to make sticks 9nd handles for 
hatchets, and saw my body to make planks and 
rafters. Is not this requiting good with evil?" 
The Adder, on this, looking upon the Traveller, 
asked if he was satisfied. But he was in such a 
confusion that he knew not what to answer. 
However, in hopes to free himself from the dan- 
ger that threatened him, he said to the Adder, 
** I desire only one favour more ; let us be judged 
by the next beast we meet ; give me but that sa- 
tisfaction, it is all I crave : you know hfe is 
sweet ; suffer me therefore to beg for the means 
of continuing it." While they were thus parley- 
ing together, a Fox passing by was stopped by the 
Adder, who conjured him to put an end to their 
controversy. The Fox, upon this, desiring to 
know the subject of their dispute ; said the Tra- 
veller, ** I have done this Adder a signal piece of 
service, and he would fain persuade me that, for 
my reward, he ought to do me a mischief.'* " If 
he means to act by- you as you men do by others, 
he speaks nothing but what is true," replied the 
Fox ; *^ but, that I may be better able to judge 
between you, let me understand what service it 
is that you have done him." The Traveller was 
very glad of this opportunity of speaking for him- 
self, and recounted the whole affair to him : he 
told him after what manner he had rescued him 
out of the flames with that little sack, which he 



FARLE III. 193 

showed him. '' How !'' said the Fox, lau^hinof 
out-right, ** would you pretend to make me be- 
lieve that so large an Adder as this could get into 
such a little sack ? It is impossible.'' Both the 
Man and the Adder, on this, assured him of the 
truth of that part of the story; but the Fox posi- 
tivoly refused to believe it. At length said he, 
** Words will never convince me of this monstrous 
improbability ; but if the Adder will go into it 
again, to convince me of the truth of what you say, 
I shall then be able to judge of the rest of this 
affair." *'That I will do most willingly," replied 
the Adder; and, at the same time, put himself into 
the sack. Then said the Fox to the Traveller, 
*^Now you are the master of your enemy's life; 
and, I believe, you need not be long in resolving 
what treatment such a monster of ingratitude de- 
serves of you." With that the Traveller tied up 
the mouth of the sack, and, with a great stone, 
never left off beating it till he had pounded the 
Adder to death ; and, by that means, put an end 
to his fears and the dispute at once. 

*'This Fable," pursued the Rat, "infoims us, 
that there is no trusting to the fair words of an 
enemy, for fear of falling into the like misfor- 
tunes." " You say very true," replied the Raven, 
*' in all this; but what I have to answer to it is, 
that we ought to understand how to distinguish 
tfiends from enemies : and, when you have learn- 



194 FABLE III. 

ed that art, you will know I am no terrible or 
treacherous foe, but a sincere and hearty friend ; 
for I protest to thee, in the most solemn manner, 
that what I have seen thee do for thy friend the 
Pigeon and his companions, has taken such root 
in me, that I cannot live without an acquaintance 
with thee ; and I swear I will not depart from 
hence till thou hast granted me thy friendship." 
Zirac perceiving, at length, that the Raven really 
dealt frankly and cordially with him, replied, ** I 
am happy to find that you are sincere in all this ; 
pardon my fears, and now hear me acknowledge, 
that I think it is an honour for me to wear the 
title of thy friend ; and, if I have so long with- 
stood thy importunities, it was only to try thee, 
and to show thee that I want neither wit nor po- 
licy, that thou mayst know hereafter how far I 
may be able to serve thee." And so saying, he 
came forward ; but even now he did not venture 
fairly out, but stopped at the entrance of his hole. 
'' Why dost thou not come boldly forth?" de- 
manded the Raven. *' Is it because thou art not 
yet assured of my affection V " That is not the 
reason,'' answered the Rat ; ** but I am afraid of 
thy companions upon the trees." ** Set thy heart 
at rest for that," replied the Raven ; " they shall 
respect thee as their friend : for it is a custom 
among us, that, when one of us enters into a 
league of friendship with a creature of another 
species, we all esteem and love that creature.** 



FABLE III. 195 

The Rat, upon the faith of these words, came 
out to the Raven, who caressed him with extraor- 
dinary demonstrations of friendship ; swearing to 
him an inviolable amity, and requesting him to 
go and live with him near the habitation of a cer- 
tain neighbouring Tortoise, of whom he gave a 
very noble character. '* Command me hencefor- 
ward in all things," replied Zirac, ** for I have so 
great an inclination for you, that from hencefor- 
ward I will for ever follow you as your shadow : 
and, to tell you the truth, this is not the proper 
place of my residence ; I was only compelled 
some time since to take sanctuary in this hole, by 
reason of an accident, of which I would give you 
the relation, if I thought it might not be offensive 
to you." '* My dear friend,*' replied the Raven. 
'* can you have any such fears? or rather, are you 
not convinced that I share in all your conceriis ? 
But the Toirtoise,'' added he, ^' whose friendship 
is a very considerable acquisition, which you 
cannot fail of, will be no less glad to hear the 
recital of your adventures : come, therefore, away 
with me to her," continued he ; and, at the same 
time, he took the Rat in his bill, and carried him 
to the Tortoise's dwelling, to whom he related 
what he had seen Zirac do. She congratulated 
the Raven for having acquired so perfect a friend, 
and caressed the Rat at a very high rate ; who, 
for his part, was too much a courtier not to tes- 
tify how sensible he was of all her civilities 



196 FABLE IV, 

After many compliments on all sides, they went 
all three to walk by the banks of a purling ri- 
vulet ; and, having made choice of a place some- 
Vfchat distant from the highway, the Raven desired 
Zlrac there to relate his adventures, which he did 
in the following manner. 



THE ADVENTURES OF ZIRAC. 

I WAS born, said Zirac, and lived many years in 
the city of India called Marout, where I made 
choice of a place to reside in that seemed to be 
the habitation of silence itself, that I might live 
without disturbance. Here I enjoyed long the 
greatest earthly felicity, and tasted the sweets of 
a quiet life, in company of some other Rats, ho- 
nest creatures of my own humour. There was 
also in our neighbourhood, I must inform you, a 
certain Dervise, who every day remained idly in 
his habitation while his companion went a beg- 
ging. He constantly, however, ate a part of 
what the other brought home, and kept the re- 
mainder for his supper. But, when he sat down 
to his second meal, he never found his dish in 
the same condition that he left it : for while he 
was in his garden, I always filled my belly, and 
constantly called my companions to partake with 
me, who were no less mindful of their duty to 



FABLE IV. 197 

nature than myself. The Dervise, on this, con- 
stantly finding his pittance diminished, flew out 
at length into a great rage, and looked into his 
books for some receipt or some engine to appre- 
hend us : but all that nothing availed him, I was 
still more cunning than he. One unfortunate 
day, however, one of his friends, who had been 
a long journey, entered into his cell to visit him ; 
and, after they had dined, they fell into a dis- 
course concerning travel. This Dervise, our good 
purveyor, among other things asked his friend 
what he had seen that was most rare and cu- 
rious in his travels. To whom the Traveller 
began to recount what he had observed most 
worthy remark ; but, as he was studying to give 
him a description of the most delightful places 
through which he had passed, the Dervise still 
interrupted him from time to time, with the noise 
which he made, by clapping his hands one against 
the other, and stamping with his foot against the 
ground, to fright us away : for, indeed, we made 
frequent sallies upon his provision, never regard- 
ing his presence nor his company. At length the 
Traveller, taking it in dudgeon that the Dervise 
gave so little ear to him, told him, in downright 
terms, that he did ill to detain him there, to trouble 
him with telling stories he did not attend to, and 
make a fool of him. '' Heaven forbid !" replied 
the Dervise, altogether surprised, " that I should 
make a fool of a person of your merit : I beg your 

s 2 



198 FABLE V. 

pardon for interrupting you but there is in this 
place a nest of rats that will eat me up to the 
very ears before they have done ; and there is 
one above the rest so bold, that he even has the 
impudence to come and bite me by the toes as I 
lie asleep, and I know not how to catch the felo- 
nious devil." The Traveller, on this, was satis- 
fied with the Dervise's excuses ; and replied, 
" Certainly there is some mystery in this : this 
accident brings to my mind a remarkable story, 
which I will relate to you, provided you will 
hearken to me with a little better attention/' 



A HUSBAND AND HIS WIFE. 

One day, continued the Traveller, a« I was on 
my journey, the bad weather constrained me to 
stop at a town, where I had several acquaintances 
of different ranks ; and, being unable lo proceed 
on my journey for the continuance of the rain, I 
went to lodge at one of my ^nds, who received 
me very civilly. After supper, he put me to bed 
in a chamber that was parted from his own by a 
very thin wainscot only ; so that, in despite of 
my ears, I heard all his private conversation wiih 
his Wife, " To-morrow,'* said he, ** I intend to in- 
vite the principal burghers to the town to divert 
mv friend, who has done me the honour to come 



FABLE VI. 



199 



and see me.*' " You have not sufficient where- 
withal to support your family," answered his 
Wife, *^ and yet you talk of being at great ex- 
penses : rather think of sparing that little you 
have for the good of your children, and let feast- 
ing alone." ** This is a man of great religion and 
piety," replied the Husband; ''and I ought to 
testify my joy on seeing him, and to give my 
other friends an opportunity of hearing his pious 
conversation ; nor be you in care for the small ex- 
pense that will attend this. The providence of 
God is very great ; and we ought not to take too 
much care for to-morrow, lest what befell the 
Wolf befall us." 



THE HUNTER AND THE WOLF. 

One day, continued the Husband, a great Hunter 
returning from the chace of a deer, which he had 
killed, unexpectedly espied a wild boar coming 
out of a wood, and making directly towards him. 
*'Very good," cried the Hunter, ** this beast 
comes very good-naturedly, he will not a little 
augment my provision." With that he bent his 
bow, and let fly his arrow with so good an aim, 
that he wounded the boar to death. Such, how- 
ever, are the unforeseen events that attend too 
covetous a care for the necessaries of life, that 



200 FABLE VI. 

this fair beginning was but a prelude to a very 
fatal catastrophe. For the beast, feeling himself 
wounded, ran with so much fury at the Hunter, 
that he ripped up his belly with his tusks in such 
a manner, that they both fell dead upon the place. 
At the very moment when this happened, there 
passed by a Wolf half- famished, who seeing so 
much victuals lying upon the ground, was in an 
ecstacy of joy, ** However,'* said he to himself, 
*' I must not be prodigal of all this good food ; 
but it behoves me to husband my good fortune, 
to make my provision hold out the longer." Be- 
ing very hungry, however, he very prudently re- 
solved to fill his belly first, and make his store 
for the future afterwards. Not willing, however , 
to waste any part of his treasure, he was for eat- 
ing his meat, and, if possible, having it too ; he 
therefore resolved to fill his belly with what was 
least delicate, and accordingly began with the 
string of the bow, which was made of gut ; but 
he had no sooner snapped the string, but the bow, 
which was highly bent, gave him such a terrible 
thump upon the breast, that he fell stone dead 
upon the other bodies. 

'^ This Fable," said the Husband, pursuing his 
discourse, ^^ instructs us that we ought not to be 
too greedily covetous." ^' Nay," said the Wife, 
** if this be the effect of saving, even invite whom 
you please to-morrow." 



FABLE VI. 201 

The company was accordingly invited ; but the 
next day, as the Wife was getting the dinner 
ready, and making a sort of sauce with honey, 
she saw a rat fall into the honey-pot, which 
turned her stomach, and stopped the making of 
that part of the entertainment. Unwilling, there- 
fore to make use of the honey, she carried it to 
the market, and, when she parted with it, took 
pitch in exchange. I was then by accident, by 
her, and asked her why she made such a disad- 
vantageous exchange for her honey ? *^ Because,'* 
said she, in my ear, ** it is not worth so much to 
me as the pitch." Then I presently perceived 
there was some mystery in the affair, which was 
beyond my comprehension. It is the same with 
this rat : he would never be so bold, had he not 
some reason for it which we are ignorant of. 
The rats, continued he, in this part of the world, 
are a cunning, covetous, and proud generation ; 
they heap money as much as the misers of our 
own species ; and when one of them is possessed 
of a considerable sum, he becomes a prince among 
them, and has his set of comrades, who would 
die to serve him, as they Hve by him ; for he 
disburses money for their purchases of food, &c., 
of one another, and they live his slaves in perfect 
idleness. And, for my p«rt, I am apt to believe 
that this is the case with this impudent rat ; that 
he has a number of slaves of his own species at 
command^ to defend and uphold him in his au- 



'202 FABLE vr. 

dacious tricks, and that there is money hidden in 
his >"oIe. 

The Dervise no sooner heard the Traveller 
talk of money, than he took a hatchet, and so 
bestirred himself, that, having cleft the wall, he 
soon discovered my treasure, to the value of a 
thousand deniers in gold, which 1 had heaped to- 
gether with great labour and toil. These had 
long bepn my whole pleasure ; I told them every 
day; I took delight to handle them, and tumble 
upon them, placing all my happiness in that ex- 
ercise. But to return to the story. When the 
gold tumbled out, *'Very good," said the Tra- 
veller; *Miad I not reason to attribute the inso- 
lence of these rats to some unknown cause?" 

I leave you to judge in what a desperate con- 
dition I was, when I saw my habitation ransacked 
after this manner. I resolved on this to change 
my lodging ; but all my companions left me ; so 
that I had a thorough experience of the truth of 
the proverb, *' No money, no friend. '* Friends, 
now-a-days, love us no longer than our friend- 
ship turns to th^ir advantage. I have heard a- 
mong the men, that one day a wealthy and a 
witty man was asked how many friends he had. 
'' As for friends a-la-mode,** said he, ** I have as 
many as I have crowns; but, as for real friends, 
I must stay till I come to be in want, and then I 
shall know." 

While I was pondering, however, upon the ac- 



Fable vi. 203 

cident that had befallen me, I saw a rat pass 
along, who had been heretofore used to profess 
himself so much devoted to my service, that you 
would have thought he could not have Hved a 
moment out of my company. I called to him, 
and asked him why he shunned me like the 
rest. "Thinkest thou,'' said the ungrateful and 
impudent villain, '* that we are such fools as to 
serve thee for nothing? When thou wast rich* 
we were thy servants ; but now thou art poor, 
believe me, we will not be the companions of thy 
poverty." "Alas! thou oughtest not to despise 
the poor," said I; *' because they are the beloved 
of Providence." ** It is very true," answered he ; 
" but not such poor as thou art. For Providence 
takes care of those among men who have, for the 
sake of religion, forsaken the world ; not those 
whom the world has forsaken." Miserably angry 
was I with myself for my former generosities to 
such a wretch ; but I could not tell what to 
answer to such a cutting expression. I stayed* 
however, notwithstanding my misfortunes, with 
the Dervise, to see how he would dispose of the 
money he had taken from me ; and I observed 
that he gave one half to his friend, and that each 
of them laid their shares under their pillows. 
On seeing this, an immediate thought came into 
my mind to go and regain this money. To this 
purpose I stole softly to the Dervise's bed-side, 
and was just going to carry back my treasure; 



204 FABLE vr. 

but unfortunately his friend, who, unperceived 
by me, observed all my actions, threw his bed- 
stafF at me with so good a will, that he had al- 
most broke my foot, which obliged me to recover 
my hole with all the speed I could, though not 
without some difficulty. About an hour after, 
I crept out again, believing by this time the 
Traveller might be asleep also. But he was too 
diligent a sentinel, and too much afraid of losing 
his good fortune. However, I plucked up a 
good heart, went forward, and was already got 
to the Dervise's bedVhead, when my rashness 
Aad like to have cost me my life. For the Tra- 
veller gave me a second blow upon the head, that 
stunned me in such a manner, that I could hardly 
find my hole again. At the same instant he also 
threw his bed-stafF at me a third time ; but miss- 
ing me, I recovered my sanctuary ; where I was 
no sooner set down in safety, than I protested 
never more to pursue the recovery of a thing 
which had cost me so much pains and jeopardy. 
In pursuance of this resolution, I left the Der- 
vise's habitation, and retired to that place where 
you saw me with the Pigeon, 

The Tortoise was extremely well pleased with 
the recital of the Rat's adventures; and at the 
same time embracing him, " You have done well," 
said she, "to quit the world, and the intrigues of 
it. since they afford us no perfect satisfaction. 
All those who are turmoiled with avarice and am- 



FABLE VII. 205 

bition do but labour for their own ruin, like a cer- 
tain Cat which I once knew, whose adventures 
you will not be displeased to hear." 



THE RAVENOUS CAT. 

A CERTAIN Person whom I have often seen, con- 
tinued the Tortoise, bred up a Cat very frugally 
in his own house. He gave her enough to suffice 
nature, though nothing superfluous : and she 
might, if she pleased, have lived very happily 
with him ; but she was very ravenous, and, not 
content with her ordinary food, hunted about in 
every corner for more. One day, passing by a 
dove-house, she saw some young pigeons that 
were hardly fledged ; and presently her teeth wa- 
tered for a taste of those delicate viands. With 
this resolution up she boldly mounted into the 
dove-house, never minding whether the master 
were there or no, and was presently, with great 
joy, preparing to satisfy her voluptuous desires. 
But the master of the place no sooner saw the 
epicure of a Cat enter, than he shut up the doors, 
and stopped up all the holes at which it was pos- 
sible for her to get out again, and so bestirred 
himself, that he caught the felonious baggage, and 
hanged her up at the corner of the pigeon-house. 



206 FABLE VII. 

Soon after this, the owner of the Cat passing 
that way, and seeing his Cat hanged, ** Unfortu- 
nate greedy-gut," said he, " hadst thou been con- 
tented with thy meaner food, thou hadst not been 
now in this condition ! Thus,'* continued he, mo- 
ralizing on the spectacle, ** insatiable gluttons are 
the procurers of their own untimely ends. Alas ! 
the felicities of this world are uncertain, and of 
no continuance. Wise men, I well remember, 
say, there is no rehance upon these six things, nor 
anything of fidelity to be expected from them : — 

** 1. From a cloud; for it disperses in an in- 
stant. 

'^2. From feigned friendship; for it passes 
away like a flash of lightning. 

** 3. From a woman's lore ; for it changes 
upon every frivolous fancy. 

** 4. From beauty ; for the least injury of time, 
misfortune, or a disease, destroys it. 

*' 5. From false prayers ; for they are but 
smoke. 

** 6. And from the enjoyments of the world ; 
for they all vanish in a moment.'' 

"Men of judgment," replied the Rat, "are 
all of this opinion : they never labour after these 
vain things ; there is nothing but the acquisition 
of a real friend can tempt us to the expectation 
of a lasting happiness.'' The Raven then spoke 
in his turn : " There is no earthly pleasure or ad- 



FABLE VIII. 207 

vantage/' said he, *Mike a true friend ; which I 
shall endeavour to prove by the recital of the fol- 
lowing story/' 



THE TWO FRIENDS. 

A CERTAIN Person, of a truly noble and generous 
disposition, once heard, as he lay in bed, some- 
body knocking at his door at an unseasonable 
hour. Somewhat surprised at it, he, without 
stirring out of his place, first asked who was 
there. But when by the answer he understood 
that it was one of his best friends, he immediately 
rose, put on his clothes, and ordering his servant 
to light a candle, went and opened the door. So 
soon as he saw him, " Dear Friend," said he, " I 
at all times rejoice to see you, but doubly now, 
because I promise myself, from this extraordinary 
visit, that I can be of some service to you. I 
cannot imagine your coming so late to be for any 
other reason, but either to borrow money, to de- 
sire me to be your second, or because you want 
female company to divert some sudden melan- 
choly : and I am very happy in that I can assure 
you that I am provided to serve you in any of 
these requests. If you want money, my purse is 
full, and it is open to all your occasions. If you 
are to meet with your enemy, my arm and sword 



208 FABLE viir. 

are at your service. Or, if any amorous desire 
brings you abroad, here is my maid, handsome 
enough, and ready to give you a civil entertain- 
ment. In a word, whatever lies in my power are 
at your service." *' There is nothing I have less 
occasion for," answered his Friend, " than all 
these things which you proffer me. I only came 
to understand the condition of your health, fearing 
the truth of an unlucky and disastrous dream." 

While the Raven was reciting this Fable, our 
set of friends beheld at a distance a little wild 
Goat making towards them with an incredible 
swiftness. 

They all took it for granted, by her speed, that 
she was pursued by some hunter; and they im- 
mediately without ceremony separated, every one 
to take care of himself. The Tortoise slipped into 
the water, the Rat crept into a hole which he ac- 
cidentally found there, and the Raven hid himself 
among the boughs of a very high tree. In the 
mean time the Goat stopped all of a sudden, and 
stood to rest itself by the side of the fountain; 
when the Raven, who looked about every way, 
perceiving nobody, called to the Tortoise, who 
immediately peeped up above water ; and seeing 
the Goat afraid to drink, *' Drink boldly," said 
the Tortoise, *' for the water is very clear :" which 
the Goat having done, *' Pray tell me,'* cried the 
Tortoise, " what is the reason you seem to be in 



FABLE VIII. 209 

such a fright ?" *' Reason enougli/' replied the 
Goat, ** for I have just made my escape from the 
hands of a hunter, who pursued me with an eager 
chase/* *^ Come," said the Tortoise, " I am glad 
you are safe, and I have an offer to make you : if 
you can like our company, stay here, and be one 
of our friends; you will find, I assure you, our 
hearts honest and our conversation beneficial. 
Wise men," continued she, **say, that the number 
of friends lessens trouble; and that if a man had 
a thousand friends, he ought to reckon them no 
more than as one : but, on the other side, if a man 
has but one enemy, he ought to reckon that one 
for a thousand, so dangerous and so desperate a 
thing is an avowed enemy." After this discourse, 
the Raven and the Rat entered into company 
with the Goat, and showed her a thousand civili- 
ties; with which she was so taken, that she pro- 
mised to stay there as long as she lived. 

These four friends, after this, hved in per- 
fect harmony a long while, and spent their time 
very pleasantly together. But one day, as the 
Tortoise, the Rat, and the Raven had met, as 
they used to do, by the side of the fountain, the 
Goat was missing : this very much troubled the 
other friends, as they knew not what accident 
might have befallen her. They soon came to a 
resolution, however, to seek for and assist her; 
and presently the Raven mounted up into the air, 
to see what discoveries he could make, and looking 

T 2 



210 FABLE VIII, 

round about him, at length, to his great sorrow, 
saw at a distance the poor Goat entangled in a 
hunter's net. He immediately dropped down, on 
this, to acquaint the Rat and Tortoise with what 
he had seen ; and you may be well assured these 
ill tidings extremely afflicted all the three friends. 
*' We have professed a strict friendship together, 
and lived long happily in it,*' said the Tortoise ; 
** and it will be shameful now to break through it, 
and leave our innocent and good-natured friend 
to destruction : no, we must find some way/' 
continued she, '* to deliver the poor Goat out of 
captivity." On this, said the Raven to the Rat, 
** Remember now, O excellent Zirac! thy own 
talents, and exert them for the public good : there 
is none but you can set our friend at liberty ; and 
the business must be quickly done, for fear the 
huntsman lay his clutches upon her," *^ Doubt 
not but I will gladly do my endeavour," replied 
the Rat; '* therefore let us go immediately, lest we 
lose time." The Raven, on this, took up Zirac in 
his bill, and carried him to the place ; where be- 
ing arived, he fell without delay to gnawing the 
meshes that held the Goat's foot, and had almost 
set him at liberty by the time the Tortoise ar- 
rived. So soon as the Goat perceived this slow- 
moving friend, she sent forth a loud cry : " Oh !" 
said she, **why have you ventured yourself to 
come hither? " ** Alas," replied the Tortoise, " I 
could no longer endure your absence." ** Dear 



FABLE VIII. 211 

Friend," said the Goat, *'your coming to this 
place troubles me more than the loss of ray own 
liberty; for if the hunter should happen to come 
at this instant, what will you do to make your es- 
cape? For my part I am almost unbound, and 
my swift heels will prevent me from falling into 
his hands ; the Raven will find his safety in his 
wings ; the Rat will run into any hole ; only you 
that are so slow of foot will become the hunter's 
prey/' 

No sooner had the Goat spoken the words than 
the hunter appeared ; but the Goat being loosen- 
ed ran away ; the Raven mounted into the sky, 
the Rat slipped into a hole ; and, as the Goat 
had said, only the slow-paced Tortoise remained 
without help. 

When the hunter arrived, he was not a little 
surprised to find his net broken. This was no 
small vexation to him, and made him look nar- 
rowly about, to see if he could discover who had 
done him the injury ; and, unfortunately, in 
searching, he spied the Tortoise. *' O !'* said he, 
'' very well, I am very glad to see you here ; I 
find I shall not go home empty-handed, however, 
at last: here's a plump Tortoise, and that's worth 
something, Tm sure." With that he took the 
Tortoise up, put it in his sack, threw the sack 
over his shoulder, and so was trudging home. 

When he was gone, the three friends came 



212 FABLE VIII. 

from their several places, and met together, wlien 
missing the Tortoise, they easily judged what was 
become of her. Then sending forth a thousand 
sighs, they made most doleful lamentations, and 
shed a torrent of tears. At length the Raven, 
interrupting this sad harmony, ^* Dear friends," 
said he, '* our moans and sorrows do the Tortoise 
no good ; we ought, instead of this, if it be pos- 
sible, to think of a way to save her life. The 
sages of former ages have informed us, that there 
are four sorts of persons that are never known but 
upon the proper occasions : men of courage in 
fight ; men of honesty in business ; a wife in her 
husband's misfortunes ; and a true friend in ex- 
treme necessity. We find, alas ! our dear friend 
the Tortoise is in a sad condition ; and therefore 
we must, if possible, succour her." " It is well 
advised," replied the Rat, '^ and now I think on't, 
an expedient is come into my head. Let the 
Goat go and show herself in the hunter's eye, 
who will then be sure to lay down his sack to run 
after her." '* Very well advised," replied the 
Goat, " I will pretend to be lame, and run Umping 
at a little distance before him, which will en- 
courage him to follow me, and so draw him a 
good way from his sack, which will give the Rat 
time to set our friend at liberty." This stratagem 
had so good a face, that it was soon approved by 
them all ; and immediately the Goat ran halting 



FABLE VIII. 213 

before the Hunter, and seemed to be so feeble 
and faint, that he thought he had her safe in 
his clutches; and so laying down his sack, ran 
after the Goat with all his might. That cunning 
creature suffered him ever and anon almost to 
come up to her, and then led him another green- 
goose chase, till in short she had fairly dragged 
him out of sight; which the Rat perceiving, came 
and gnawed the string that tied the sack, and let 
out the Tortoise, who went and hid herself in a 
thick bush. 

At length the Hunter, tired with running in 
vain after his prey, left off the chase, and re- 
turned to his sack. ** Here," said he, ** I have 
something safe however : thou art not quite so 
swift of foot as this plaguy Goat ; and if thou 
wert, art too fast here to find the way to make 
thy legs of any use to thee.^' So saying, he went 
to the bag, but there missing the Tortoise, he 
was in amaze, and thought himself in a region of 
hobgoblins and spirits. He could not but stand 
and bless himself, that a Goat should free herself 
out of his nets, and by-and-by run hopping before 
him, and make a fool of him; and that in the 
mean while a Tortoise, a poor feeble creature, 
should break the string of a sack, and make its 
escape. All these considerations struck him with 
such a panic fear, that he ran home as if a thou- 
sand robin-goodfellows or raw-head and bloody- 



214 FABLE VIII. 

bones had been at his heels. After which tlie 
four friends met together again, congratulated 
each other on their escapes, made new protesta- 
tions of friendship, and swore never to separate 
till death parted them. 



CHAPTER V. 



THAT WE OUGHT ALWAYS TO DISTRUST OUR 
ENEMIES, AND BE, IF POSSIBLE, PERFECTLY 
INFORMED OF WHATEVER PASSES AMONG 
THEM. 



** We are now," said Dabschelim, *' most excellent 
man ! come to the fifth Chapter, which is to 
prove, that no person of judgment and discretion 
ought to hope for friendship from his enemies 
Teach me, therefore, most venerable Sage, since 
I must never expect good offices from them, which 
way to avoid their treasons.'* ^* We ought'' re- 
replied the Bramin, *' always to distrust our ene- 
mies : when they make a show of friendship, it 
is only to cover their evil designs. Whoever con- 
fides in the enemy, believe me, will be deceived, 
like the Owl in the Fable, which I am going to 
recite to your Majesty.'' 



216 FABLE I. 



THE RAVENS AND THE OWLS. 

In the north-west parts of Zamardot,* continued 
Pilpay, there is a mountain whose top reaches 
above the clouds ; and near the top of this moun- 
tain there once stood a tree whose boughs seemed 
to reach heaven ; and these boughs were all laden 
with the nests of a vast number of Ravens, who 
were all the subjects of a king called Birouz. 
One night, the king of the Owls, who was called 
Chabahang, that is to say, Fly by night, came at 
the head of his army (for the birds of that nation 
are all under the government of their particular 
monarchs) to plunder the Ravens' nests, against 
whom he had an ancient hatred. That night, 
however, they could do no more than make prepa- 
rations for their intended enterprise, and by the 
vile noise of their screams defy the enemy. The 
next day Birouz called a council, to deliberate 
what means they should make use of to defend 
themselves from the assaults of the Owls. On 
which five of the ablest politicians of his court, 
understanding his Majesty's intentions, gave their 
advice one after another in the following words : 
^* Great Monarch," said the first, ** we can think 
of nothing but what your Majesty has unquestion- 

* Zamardot is accounted the most mountainous country 
of all the East. 



Ul-ABLli I. 217 

ably already thought of before us. Nevertheless, 
since it is your pleasure that we should speak in 
order what we judge most expedient to revenge 
ourselves upon the Owls, I shall only presume to 
observe to your Majesty, that our best politicians 
have always held for a maxim, that no prince 
ought ever to attack an enemy stronger than 
himself: to do otherwise, is to build upon the 
current of a swift river." " Sir," said the second, 
"all I have to say is, that flight becomes none 
but mean and cowardly souls : it is more noble to 
take arms and revenge the affront we have re- 
ceived than tamely to bear it, were we sure it 
would be no worse. A prince can never be at 
rest, if he does not carry terror into the country 
and into the soul of his enemy." When he had 
done speaking, the third, coming to give his opi- 
nion, said, " I do not blame the counsel of my 
brethren who have already spoken ; nor do I 
think either, or what may be deduced from both, 
sufficient. If I may presume to speak freely, my 
advice is, that your Majesty send spies, to dis- 
cover the strength and condition of the enemy; 
and, according to the tenor of their reports, let us 
make war or peace. It is the duty of a king to 
preserve peace in his own kingdom, if it may be 
done without great disadvantage, as well for the re- 
pose of his own mind as for the ease of his subjects. 
War, we all know, is never to be declared but 
against those that disturb the public tranquillity ; 



218 FABLE I. 

and even in regard to such, if the enemy be too 
powerful, we must have recourse to artifice and 
stratagem, and make use of all opportunities tliat 
present themselves, to vanquish him by cunning 
and policy.'' When this politician had thus given 
in his opinion, the fourth took his turn, and laid 
before the King, that, in his opinion, it was 
better for a prince even to quit his country, than 
to expose a people to lose the reputation of their 
arms, who had always been victorious over their 
enemies ; that, even though it should be found 
that the enemies were the stronger, it would yet 
be a shame for the Ravens to submit themselves 
to the Owls, who had all along been under their 
subjection ; and finally, that it was requisite to 
penetrate their designs, and resolve rather to 
fight than undergo an ignominious yoke, since 
loss of life was less to be dreaded than loss of re- 
putation. 

The King, after he had heard these four mi- 
nisters, made a signal to the fifth to speak in his 
turn. The Vizier, or Minister, was called Car- 
chenas, or the Intelligent ; and the King, who 
had a particular confidence in him, desired him to 
tell him sincerely what he thought was best to be 
done in this affair. " What say you, Carchenas ?" 
said the Monarch. '^ What shall we do ? Shall we 
declare war, or propound peace, or abandon our 
country V '* Sir," replied Carchenas, ** since you 
order me to speak with freedom, my opinion is, 



FABLE I. 219 

tliat we ought not to attack the Owls, for this 
plain reason, that they are more numerous than 
we. We must make use of prudence, a virtue 
that has frequently a greater share in successes 
than either strength or riches. But before your 
Majesty take your final resolution, let me advise, 
that you consult your ministers once more, and 
give them an opportunity of declaring their opi- 
nions a second time ; now that they are each of 
them acquainted with what is to be said on the 
other side, their counsels may assist you to bring 
about your designs with success. Great rivers 
are always swelled by many rivulets ; and for my 
part, I neither love war, nor am I for base and 
dastardly submission. It is not for men of ho- 
nour 10 desire that they may have long life, but 
that they may leave to posterity examples of 
virtue worthy of admiration : nor ought we 
meanly to take care of our lives at the expense 
of our country's safety, but to expose them upon 
all occasions where honour calls us, considering 
it is better never to have been, than to live igno- 
bly. Permit me to add, that my final advice is, 
that your Majesty show not the least fear in this 
conjuncture ; and that you take your resolutions 
in private, that your enemies may not penetrate 
into your designs." 

Here one of the other ministers, interrupting 
Carchenas, said with some earnestness, *^ How ! 
what mean you by this advice, so different from 
the tenor of the beginning of your speech ? Where- 



220 FABLE II. 

fore are councils held but to debate among se- 
veral? And wherefore would you have an affair 
of this consequence decided in a private manner?'' 
" Affairs of princes," replied Carchenas, " are not 
hke those of merchants, which are to be commu- 
nicated to the whole society : and there is a dif- 
ference between hearing the advice of others and 
communicating our designs to them. The secrets 
of kings cannot be discovered but by their coun- 
sellors and ambassadors. And who knows but 
there may be spies in this very place, who hear 
us with an intent to disclose our resolutions to 
our enemies, who upon their report will prevent 
our enterprises, or at least disorder our determi- 
nations? Wise men say, that if you will have a 
secret, take care to keep it a secret from all the 
world, not only from enemies but from friends. 
And let me tell you, sir, that monarch who does 
not observe this rule will run the hazard of being 
betrayed, as was the King of Quechemir." Upon 
this, Birouz, who was very curious, commanded 
Carchenas to tell him the history. 



THE KING AND HIS MISTRESS. 

In the city of Quechemir there once reigned a 
King no less just than powerful, who had a 
mistress so surpassingly beautiful, that all per- 
sons that beheld her were in love with her. The 



FABLE II. 221 

King liimself doted on her to that degree, that 
he would never be out of her company: but such 
was the misfortune of their destiny, that she was 
far from loving the King so dearly as she was be- 
loved by him. The affection of the King, in short, 
flattered her vanity, but never touched her heart ; 
which being always made, however, to harbour 
some particular amour or other, she once suffered 
herself to be possessed with a violent passion for 
a page, who was handsome and well proportioned 
even to admiration. She soon informed him by 
her glances what sentiments she had for him ; and 
the ogling youth as soon instructed her, that she 
could not apply herself to a young spark that 
was more inclined to make his advantage of so 
fair a fortune. In short, there wanted nothing 
but an opportunity to get together in private. 

In the midst of this expectation of happiness, 
it happened, however, that one day as the King 
was sitting with his mistress, and gazing on her 
with delight, the page, who was standing in the 
same chamber, cast his eyes from time to time 
upon the charming lady ; while she, on the other 
hand, fixed hers upon the page with an air so 
passionate, that the King plainly perceived it. 
He understood but too well that silent language, 
and was so enraged with jealousy and distraction, 
that he immediately resolved to put them both to 
death. However, dissembling his design, because 
he would not act with too much precipitation, he 

u2 



222 FABLE II. 

re-entered his apartment, where he spent the 
night in miserable uneasiness and disquiet. The 
next morning, as soon as he arose, he heard the 
complaints of his subjects, as was his usual cus- 
tom ; and after he had given satisfaction to his 
people, entered into his cabinet in great disorder 
of mind, and thither sent for his chief minister, 
and discovered to him his design to poison both 
his mistress and the page. The Vizier having 
heard his reasons, told him that he could not but 
approve them, and promised to keep the secret. 
From his master's closet he immediately went 
home ; where finding his daughter extremely pen- 
sive, he asked the reason. " Father,'^ said she, 
"the King's favourite mistress has publicly af- 
fronted me ; I am distracted at it : and if I do 
not revenge myself, it is not for want of good 
will." ** Comfort yourself," replied the minister, 
*' take my word for it, you will soon be delivered 
from your pain." 

Now, as the women are naturally very curious, 
the daughter, from this hint, continually pressed 
her father to know after what manner she should 
be revenged on her enemy ; and he was at length 
so weak as to reveal to her the King's design. 
It is true she swore not to discover it. But an 
hour or two after, the King's mistress's eunuch 
coming to visit the Minister's daughter, with an 
intention to comfort her, and extenuate the af- 
front she had received ; and to that purpose tell- 



FABLE II. 223 

ing her tliat we oug]}t to bear with our neigh- 
bour's faults : *' Ay, ay," said the hidy, inter- 
rupting him with a disdainful smile, ^* let her 
alone, she has not long to play her proud pranks." 
Upon which the eunuch pressed her so earnestly 
to explain her meaning, that she could hold no 
longer, but told him every word that her father 
had said to her, after she had made him also 
swear that he would inviolably keep the secret. 
The eunuch, however, did not think an oath of 
that kind very binding ; and, in short, he no 
sooner left her, but believing himself much more 
obliged to break than to keep his protestations of 
secrecy, he went to the King's mistress, and re- 
vealed to her the violent resolution which the 
King had taken. There needed no more than the 
knowledge of the intent of the King, you may be 
sure, to incense the lady to try all ways to pre- 
vent and to be revenged on him. In short, she 
sent away privately for the page, with whom she 
took such measures, that the King was found 
next morning dead in his bed. 

** You see by this story," continued Carchenas, 
*' that princes are not to discover their secrets to 
any, at least not to any but those of whose dis- 
cretion and fidelity they have had constant and 
assured proofs." " But of what nature are the 
secrets," said Birouz, '* which it most of all con- 
cerns us to conceal?" " Sir,'" answered Carchenas, 



224 FABLE III. 

** there are many kinds of secrets : some are of 
such a nature, that princes are not to intrust any- 
body but themselves with them ; that is to say, 
they ought to keep them so concealed, that no- 
body may be able, from any thing they see, even 
to make the least guess at them : and others 
there are, vi^hich, though they ought to be kept 
most sacredly from the general knowledge, yet 
may be communicated to faithful ministers for 
their advice and counsel." 

Birouz finding that Carchenas spoke nothing 
but reason, withdrew from the rest of the coun- 
cil, and shut himself up with him in his cabinet ; 
and before he discoursed at large concerning the 
business in question, he desired him to tell him 
the fatal original of the deadly and hereditary ha- 
tred between the Ravens and the Owls. *^ Sir/' 
answered Carchenas, '* a few words alone pro- 
duced that cruel animosity, the terrible effects of 
which you have so oft experienced. The story at 
large is this." 



THE ORIGINAL OF THE HATRED BETWEEN 
THE RAVENS AND THE OWLS 

It once happened that, in the neighbourhood of 
this our delightful habitation, a flight of birds as- 
sembled to choose themselves a king; and every 



fABLE III. 225 

different species among them put in his pre- 
tensions to the crown. At length, however, there 
were several that gave their voices for the Owl, 
because Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, had 
made choice of the Owl for her peculiar bird: but 
a vast number of others being strenuous in their 
resolution never to obey so deformed a creature, 
the diet broke up, and they fell one upon another 
with so much fury, that several on all sides were 
slain. The fight, however, probably would have 
lasted longer than it did, had not a certain bird, 
in order to part them, bethought himself of crying 
out to the combatants, *' No more civil wars ; why 
do you spill one another's blood in vain, here is a 
Raven coming ; let us all agree to make him our 
judge and arbitrator ; he is a person of judgment, 
and whose years have gained him experience.*' 
The birds unanimously consented to this : and 
when the Raven arrived, and had informed him- 
self of the occasion of the quarrel, he thus deli- 
vered himself: *' Are you such fools and madmen, 
gentlemen," says he, '* to choose for your king a 
bird that draws after him nothing but misfor- 
tune? Will you set up a fly instead of a griffin? 
Why do you not rather make choice of a falcon, 
who is eminent for his courage and agility ? or 
else a peacock, who treads with a majestic gait, 
and carries a train of starry eyes in his tail? 
Why do you not rather raise an eagle to the 
throne, who is the emblem of royalty ; or, lastly. 



226 FABLE IV. 



a griffin, who only by the motion and noise of his 
wings makes tije mountains tremble? But though 
there were no such "birds as these that I have 
named in the world, surely it were better for you 
to live without a king, than subject yourselves to 
such a horrid creature as an Owl ; for though 
he has the physiognomy of a cat, he has no wit ; 
and, which is yet more insupportable, notwith- 
standing that he is so abominably ugly, he is as 
proud as a fine lady at a public feast : and which 
ought, if possible, to render him yet more despi- 
cable in our eyes, he hates the light of that mag- 
nificent body that enlivens all nature. Therefore, 
gentlemen, lay aside a design so prejudicial to 
your honour, proceed to the election of another 
king, and do nothing that you may be sure to 
repent of afterwards. Choose a king that may 
comfort you in your distresses; and remember 
the story of the Rabbit, who calling himself the 
Moon's ambassador, expelled the Elephants out 
of his country." 



THE ELEPHANTS AND THE RABBITS. 

There happened once, continued the Raven, a 
most dreadful year of drought in the Elephants' 
country, called the Isles of Rad, or of the Wind, 
insomuch that pressed by extreme thirst, and not 



FABLE IV. 227 

being able lo come at any water, the whole body 
of the nation at length publicly addressed them- 
selves to their King, beseeching him to apply 
some remedy to their misery, that they might not 
perish, or to destroy them all at once, rather than 
let them endure a life of so much misery. The 
King, upon this passionate application, com- 
manded diligent search to be made in all places 
in the neighbourhood, or at any reasonable dis- 
tance : and at length there was discovered a 
spring of water, to which the ancients had given 
the name of Chaschmanah, or the Fountain of the 
Moon. Immediately on this most happy disco- 
very, the King came and encamped with his whole 
army in the parts adjoining to this fountain : but, 
as misfortune would have it, the coming of the 
Elephants ruined a great number of Rabbits that 
had a warren in the same place, because the Ele- 
phants, every step they took, trod down their 
burrows, and killed the poor creatures* young 
ones. 

The Rabbits, on this public calamity, assem- 
bled together, went to their King and besought 
him to deliver them from this terrible oppression. 
" I know very well," answered the King, *^ that I 
sit upon the throne only for the welfare and ease 
of my subjects; but, alas! you now ask me a 
thing that far surpasses my strength." Upon this, 
one Rabbit, more cunning than the rest, perceiv- 
ing the King at a loss, yet very much moved with 



228 FABLE IV. 

the affliction of his people, stepped before his 
companions, and addressing himself to the King-, 
"Sir," said he, '* your Majesty thinks hke a just 
and generous prince ; while the care of our tran- 
quillity disturbs your rest, and while you afford 
us the freedom to give our advice, it makes me 
bold to impart to your Majesty an invention lately 
come into my head, to drive those terrible de- 
stroyers the Elephants out of this country. Per- 
mit me only,'' continued the Rabbit, '' that I may 
go with the character of your ambassador to the 
King of the Elephants, and doubt not but I will 
send away all these strangers faster than they 
came: neither need your Majesty to fear that I 
shall make any improper submissions to them ; if 
any thought of that kind in the least disturbs 
your Majesty's breast, I am willing that your 
Majesty should appoint me a companion, who 
may at any time return to you, and acquaint you 
with all that passes in my embassy." 

''No," replied the King very obligingly, *' go 
alone, and prosper : I will have no spies upon thy 
actions, for I believe thee faithful. Go, in the 
name of Heaven, and do what thou shalt deem 
most convenient : only take care that you always 
remember that an ambassador is the King's 
tongue ; his discourses therefore ought to be well 
weighed, and his words and his behaviour noble, 
and such as would suit the prince himself whom 
he represents. The most learned in the kingdom 



FABLF TV. 229 

ought always to be made choice of for ambassa- 
dors. Nay, I have heard that one of the greatest 
monarchs in the world was wont frequently to dis- 
guise himself, and become his own ambassador. 
Indeed, for the honourable and proper discharge 
of that employment, three necessary quahties are 
resolution, eloquence, and a vast extent of natural 
parts. A violent spirit, let me tell you, is not for 
that employment. Several ambassadors, with a 
rash word, have created trouble in a peaceful 
kingdom ; and others, with a mild and agreeable 
saying, have reunited irreconcileable enemies." 
" Sir," said the Rabbit, " if I am not endowed 
with these good qualities your Majesty has enu- 
merated, I will endeavour, at least, to make the 
best of those I have ; and shall ever remember 
this lesson which your Majesty has honoured me 
with, and endeavour to act according to what 
your Majesty has so justly declared to be the 
duty of one in so public and so honourable an 
employment." 

Having so said, he took his leave of the King, 
and went immediately forward on his journey to 
the Elephants. Before he ventured himself among 
them, however, he bethought himself, that if he 
went into the crowd that usually attended on their 
King, he might very likely be trod to pieces : 
for which reason he got upon a high tree, from 
whence he called the King of the Elephants, who 
was not far ofF, and addressed him in the fol- 

X 



230 FABLE IV. 

lowing words : " I am," said he, " the Moon's 
ambassador; hear therefore with reverence and 
attention what I have to say to you in her name. 
You, who in all ages have been famous for your 
adorations of my royal mistress, know full well, 
I doubt not, that the Moon is a goddess whose 
power is unlimited, and that above all things she 
hates a lie." 

The King of the Elephants, who was a just and 
a most pious prince, trembled when he heard the 
Rabbit talk of these things, and humbly desired 
to know the subject of his embassy. " The 
Moon," replied the Rabbit, '* has sent me hither, 
to let you understand, that whoever is puffed up 
with his own grandeur, and despises her little 
ones, deserves death ; and that she is grieved to 
see that you are not contented only to oppress the 
little ones, our peaceful and religious nation, but 
you have the insolence to trouble a fountain con- 
secreted to her deity, where every thing is pure. 
Reform your manners, else you will be severely 
punished. And if you will not give credit to my 
words, come and see the Moon in her own foun- 
tain, and then tremble and retire.'' 

The King of the Elephants was inwardly grieved 
and astonished at these words, and went to the 
fountain, wherein he saw the Moon indeed, be- 
cause the water was clear and the Moon then shone 
very brightly. Then said the Rabbit to the Ele- 
phant, ** You see the sacred deity; take of the 



FABLE IV. 231 

water to wash yourself, and pay your adorations." 
The Elephant very obediently took some of the 
water, but puddled the fountain with his trunk : 
at which the Rabbit, ** Infidel," said he, *' you 
have profaned the fountain with your anhallowed 
touch, and behold the goddess is gone away in a 
passion; retire therefore, I conjure you, with 
speed from hence with your whole army, lest 
some dreadful misfortune befall you." This 
threatening language put the King of the Ele- 
phants into a trembling, and terrified him to that 
degree, that he presently commanded his army to 
decamp; and away they all marched, never to 
return to the sacred fountain of the Moon again. 
And thus the Rabbits were delivered from their 
enemies by the policy of one of their society. 

** I have not recited this example,'' continued 
the Raven, " but to instruct you that you ought 
to make choice of a prudent and politic bird for 
your sovereign ; since by it you see that art and 
address, even in the representative of a king only, 
can do more than force in many cases, though the 
King himself and his whole army engaged in the 
enterprise. Choose therefore one for your king 
who may be able to assist you in your adversities, 
and not an Owl, who has neither courage nor wit. 
These obscene birds have nothing in them but 
malice, which will, one time or other, believe me, 
be no less fatal to you than the Cat was to the 



232 FABLE V. 

Partridge, vvlio desired him to decide a difference 
which she had with another bird. The story is 
^ ' this. 



THE CAT AND THE TWO BIRDS. 

Some years ago, continued the Raven, I made my 
nest upon a tree, at the foot of which there fre- 
quently sat a Partridge, a fair and comely bird^ 
well-shaped and good-humoured : our neighbour- 
ing situation soon brought us acquainted with 
one another ; and after a short knowledge of each 
other's talents and humour, we made a league of 
friendship together, and almost continually kept 
one another company. Some time after our first 
entering on this intimacy one with another, my 
friend, however, absented herself, for what reason 
I know not, and stayed away so long, that I 
thought her dead ; but my thoughts of this kind 
were mistaken, for she at length returned, but 
had the misfortune to find her habitation in pos- 
session of another bird. The Partridge pretended 
the house was hers, and would have made a for- 
cible entry ; but the Bird refused to go out, al- 
leging that possession was the strongest tenure of 
the law. I endeavoured, soon after this, to bring 
them to an accommodation, but all to no purpose ; 
for the Partridge's attorney, finding she had mo- 
ney, egged her on, and tickled her ears with a 




The Cat and the two Birds. 



Page 232. 



FABLE V 233 

lease of ejectment. However, at length, the 
Partridge, finding the law to be very tedious and 
expensive, said one day to herself, *' Here lives 
hard by, I remember, a very devout Cat ; he 
fasts every day, does nobody harm, and spends 
the nights in prayer : let us, in short," said she to 
her adversary, *' distract our brains and empty 
our purses no more about law, but refer our 
difference to him : I know not where we shall find 
a more equitable judge.'* The other Bird having 
consented to this proposal, they went both to this 
religious Cat, and I followed them out of cu- 
riosity. Entering, I saw the Cat very attentive 
at a long prayer, without turning either to the 
right or left ; which put me in mind of the old 
proverb, that ** Long prayers before people is the 
key of hell.'' I admired his sober hypocricy, and 
had the patience to stay till the venerable per- 
sonage had done ; after which the Partridge and 
his antagonist accosted him with great respect, 
and requested him to hear their diflference, and 
give judgment according to the usual rules of jus- 
tice. The Cat, in his fur gown, acting the part of 
a grave and formal judge, first heard what the 
Stranger-bird had to plead for itself; and then 
addressing himself to the Partridge, ** My pretty 
love," said he, '* come you now to me and let me 
hear your story ; but as I am old and thick of 
hearing, pray come near and lift up your voice, 
that I may not lose a word of what you say.'* 



234 FABLE V. 

The Partridge and the other Bird, on this, seeing 
him so devout and sanctified, both went boldly 
close up to him ; but then the hypocrite disco- 
vered the bottom of his sanctity, for he imme- 
diately fell upon them, and in short devoured 
them both. 

**You see by this example, '* continued he, 
" that deceitful people are never to be trusted : 
and my inference from all this is. Have you a care 
of the Owl, who is in truth no better than the Cat. 
The Birds, convinced that the Raven spoke no- 
thing but what was reason, never minded the Owl 
any more; and upon this the Owl went home, 
meditating how to be revenged upon the Raven, 
against whom he conceived such a mortal hatred, 
that time could never extinguish it." 

** This, sir," proceeded Carchenas, " is the true 
reason of the perpetual enmity between us and 
the Owls." *^ I thank you, Vizier, for this story," 
replied the Monarch; '* and now let us consider 
what measures we must take to preserve the 
peace of my subjects, and revenge the affront I 
have received.** To which Carchenas, making 
a low reverence, replied, '* Sir, permit me to 
speak my mind freely, and inform your Ma- 
jesty, that I am not of the same opinion with 
your other ministers, who advise either war, or 
fiight, or an ignominious peace. I dissent from 



FABLE VI. 235 

all, and would only recommend to your Majesty 
to take at present no absolute resolution at all, 
but to follow cautiously this excellent maxim ; 
that when we want strength, we must have re- 
course to artifice and stratagem, and endeavour 
to deceive the enemy by feigning one thing and 
doing another. The advantage of this way of 
proceeding in things of this kind, we may see by 
the following example." 



THE DERTISE AND THE FOUR ROBBERS. 

A Deuvise had once made a purchase of a fine 
fat sheep, with intent to offer it up in sacrifice ; 
and having tied a cord about the neck of it, was 
leading it to his habitation : but as he led it along, 
four thieves perceived him, and had a great mind 
to steal his sacrifice for less holy uses. They 
dared not, however, take it away from the Der- 
vise by force, because they were too near the 
city ; therefore they made use of this stratagem : 
they first parted company, and then accosted the 
Dervise, (whom they knew to be an honest and 
inoffensive man, and one who thought of no more 
harm in others than he had in himself,) as if they 
had come from several distinct parts. Said the 
first of them, who had contrived to meet him full- 
face, ''Father, whither are you leading this dog?'' 



236 FABLE VI. 

At this instant the second coming from another 
quarter, cried to him, ** Venerable old gentleman, 
I hope you have not so far forgot yourself as to 
have stolen this dog ;" and immediately after 
him, the third coming up, and asking him. Whi- 
ther he would go a coursing with that handsome 
greyhound ; the poor Dervise began to doubt 
whether the sheep which he had was a sheep or 
no. But the fourth Robber put him quite beside 
himself, coming up at that instant, and saying to 
him, ** Pray, reverend father, what did this dog 
cost you ? " The Dervise, on this, absolutely per- 
suaded that four men, coming from four several 
places, could not all be deceived, verily believed 
that the grazier who had sold him the sheep was 
a conjuror, and had bewitched his sight; inso- 
much ihat no longer giving credit to his own eyes, 
he began to be firmly convinced that the sheep he 
was leading was a dog ; and immediately, in full 
persuasion of it, went back to market to demand 
his money of the grazier, leaving the wether with 
the felons, who carried it away. 

*' Sir,- ' said Carchenas, ** your Majesty sees by 
this example, that what cannot be done by force 
must be achieved by policy." " You advise me 
weli,^' said the King; " and now tell me by what 
invention shall we revenge ourselves on the Owls?" 
'^ Rely upon me," replied Carchenas, *' to take 
care of your Majesty's revenge, and suffer me to 



FABLE VI. 237 

sacrifice my own private ease to the public good. 
Only order my feathers to be pulled off, and leave 
me all over bloody under this tree, and doubt not 
but I will do you an acceptable service/' It was 
no small grief to Birouz to give out such a cruel 
order. In regard to this excellent Minister, how- 
ever, at his own incessant entreaties, the thing at 
length was done, and the King marched away 
with his ermy to wait for Carchenas in a place 
where that Vizier had appointed him. 

In the mean time night came, and the Owls, 
puffed up with the success of their insolence the 
night before, returned, intending now, by a bloody 
battle, at once to complete the destruction of the 
Ravens. But they were amazed when they missed 
the enemy, whom they intended to have surprised. 
They sought for the Ravens' army diligently from 
every corner, and in their searches they heard a 
voice of grievous lamentation, which was the 
voice of Carchenas, who was groaning at the foot 
of a tree. The King of the Owls on this imme- 
diately approached him, and examined him con- 
cerning his birth, and the employment he had in 
Birouz's court ? ** Alas !" replied Carchenas, *' the 
condition wherein you see me sufficiently shows 
you my inability to give you the account which 
you demand. I have not strength, alas ! to re- 
peat it." ** What crime did you commit then," 
replied Chabahang, ** to deserve this hard usage?'* 



!238 FABLE VI. 

" No crime, O mighty Monarch!" replied Car- 
chenas; " but the wicked Ravens, upon a sHght 
suspicion only, have used me thus. After our 
army,'' continued he, " was thrown into terror 
and affright last night by your bold defiance, King 
Birouz called a council, to seek out ways to be 
revenged of so heinous an affront. And after he 
had heard the various opinions of some of his mi- 
nisters, he commanded me to speak mine : at 
which time 1 laid before him, that you were not 
only superior in number, but better disciplined, 
and more valiant than we were ; and by conse- 
quence that it was necessary for us to desire 
peace, and to accept of whatever conditions you 
would be pleased to grant us. This so incensed 
the King against me, that in a violent passion, 
Traitor, cried he, this is the way to infuse into 
my army a fear of the enemy, by exalting their 
strength and lessening mine ; and with that, sus- 
pecting that I was meditating to make my peace 
with your Majesty, he commanded that I should 
be used as you see." 

After Carchenas had done speaking, the King 
of the Owls asked his chief Minister what was to 
be done with him ? " The only way, sir," answer- 
ed the Minister, '* is to put him out of his pain, 
and knock him on the head ; never trust his fair 
speeches, for I don't believe a word he says. Re- 
member the old proverb, sir, The more dead the 



FABLE VII. 239 

fewer enemies." Carchenas, on this, in a lament- 
able tone, cried out, *' I beseech you, sir, add not 
to my affliction by your threatening language" 

The King of the Owls, who could not choose 
but compassionate Carchenas, now bade the se- 
cond Minister speak ; who was not of the first 
Vizier's opinion. " Sir,'' said he, ** I would not 
advise your Majesty to put this person to death. 
Kings ought to assist the weak, and succour those 
that throw themselves upon their protection. Be- 
sides," continued he, ** sometimes there may be 
great advantage made of an enemy's service, ac- 
cording to the story of a certain Merchant, which, 
with permission, I will relate to your Majesty." 



THE MERCHANT, HIS WIFE, AND THE ROBBER. 

There was once, continued the Minister, a cer- 
tain Merchant, very rich, but homely, and very 
deformed in his person, who had married a very 
fair and virtuous Wife. He loved her passion- 
ately; but, on the other hand, she hated him, in- 
somuch that, not being able to endure him, she 
lay by herself in a separate bed in the same 
chamber. 

It happened, soon after they were married, that 
a thief one night broke into the house, and came 
into the chamber. The Husband was at this 



240 FABLE VH. 

time asleep ; but the Wife being awake, and per- 
ceiving the thief, was in such a terrible fright, 
that she ran to her Husband, and caught him fast 
in her arms. The Husband waking, was trans- 
ported with joy to see the delight of his life 
clasping him in her embraces. ^* Bless me I " cried 
he, ^^ to what am I obliged for this extraordinary 
happiness ? I wish I knew the person to whom I 
owe it, that I might return him thanks." Hardly 
had he uttered the words when the thief appeared, 
and he soon guessed the whole occasion. ** Oh !'* 
cried the Merchant, *' the most welcome person 
in the world ; take whatever thou thinkest fit- 
ting; I cannot reward thee sufficiently for the 
good service thou hast done me." 

" By this example we may see that our enemies 
may sometimes be serviceable to us, in obtaining 
those things which we have sought in vain to en- 
joy by the help of our friends. So that since this 
Raven may prove beneficial to us, we ought, I 
am of opinion, to preserve his life." 

The King, on this Minister's ending his speech, 
asked a third what he thought ; who delivered his 
opinion in these words : ** Sir," said he, **so far 
from putting this Raven to death, you ought to 
caress him, and engage him by your favours to do 
you some important service. The wise always 
endeavour to oblige some of their enemies, in 
order to set up a faction against the rest, and then 



FABLE Vlll. 241 

make advantage of their divisions. The quarrel 
which the Devil once had with the Thief was the 
reason that neither the one nor the other could 
hurt a very virtuous Dervise, according to the 
ensuing Fabie.'* 



THE DERVISE, THE THIEF, AND THE DEVIL. 

In the parts adjoining to Babylon, continued the 
third Minister, there was once a certain Dervise, 
who lived like a true servant of Heaven : he sub- 
sisted only upon such alms as he received ; and 
as for other things, gave himself up wholly to 
Providence, without troubling his mind with the 
intrigues of this world. 

One of the friends of the Dervise one day sent 
him a fat ox, which a Thief seeing as it was led 
to his lodging, he resolved to have it whatever it 
cost him : with this intent he set forward for the 
Dervise's habitation ; but as he went on, he met 
the Devil in the shape of a plain-dressed man, 
and suspecting by his countenance that he was 
one of his own stamp, he immediately asked him 
who he was, and whither he was going ? The 
stranger, on this, made him a short answer to his 
demand; saying, ^"^ I am the Devil, who have 
taken human shape upon me, and I am going to 
this cave with intent to kill the Dervise that lives 



242 FAELE VIII. 

there; because his example does me a world of 
mischief, by making several wicked people turn 
honest and good men : I intend therefore to put 
him out of the way, and then hope to succeed 
better in my business than I have done of late ; 
else I assure you we shall soon want people in my 
dominions," ** Mr. Satan," answered the Thief, 
" I am your most obedient humble servant ; I as- 
sure you I am one you have no reason to com- 
plain about ; for I am a notorious Robber, and 
am going to the same place whither you are bent, 
to steal a fat ox that was a few hours ago given 
to the Dervise that you design to kill." " My 
good friend," quoth the Devil, " I am heartily 
glad I have met you, and rejoice that we are both 
of the same humour, and that both of us design 
to do this abominable Dervise a mischief. Go on 
and prosper," continued the Devil, ** and know, 
when you rob such people as these, you do me a 
doubly acceptable service." 

In the midst of this discourse they came both 
to the Dervise's habitation ; night was already 
well advanced, and the good man had said his 
usual prayers, and was gone to bed. And now 
the Thief and the Devil were both preparing to 
put their designs in execution ; when the Thief 
said to himself, ** The Devil in going to kill this 
man will certainly make him cry out, and raise the 
neighbourhood, which will hinder me from steal- 
ing the ox." The Devil, on the other hand, rea- 



FABLE VIII. 243 

soned with himself after this manner : ** If the 
Thief goes to steal the ox before I have executed 
my design, the noise he will make in breaking 
open the door will waken the Dervise, and set hkn 
on his guard.'' Therefore said the Devil to the 
Thief, ** Let me first kill the Dervise. and then thou 
mayst steal the ox at thy own leisure." ** No/' 
said the Thief, ** the better way will be for you to 
stay till I have stolen the ox, and then do you 
murder the man." But both refusing to give way 
the one to the other, they quarrelled first, and from 
words they fell to downright fisty-cufFs. At which 
sport the Devil proving the stronger of the two, 
the Thief called out to the Dervise, *' Awake, 
man, arise, here is the Devil come to murder 
you." And on this, the Devil perceiving himself 
discovered, cried out, *' Thieves, thieves ; look to 
your ox, Dervise." The good man quickly wak- 
ing at the noise, called in the neighbours, whose 
presence constrained the Thief and the Devil to 
betake themselves to their heels ; and the poor 
Dervise saved both his life and his ox. 

The chief Minister having heard this Fable, 
falling into a very great passion, said to the King, 
" Listen not, O sacred Sir, I beseech you, to 
these idle stories : if you give way to what they 
would insinuate, believe me, you will suffer your- 
self to be deceived by this Raven, not less than 
the Joiner was deceived by his Wife." *' What 



244 FABLE IX, 

IS that story ? " replied Chabahang ; '' go on, and 
reiate it to ine.** 



THR JOINER AND HT3 WIFE. 

In the city of Guaschalla, sir, continued the Mi- 
nister then, there once lived a Joiner, who was 
very skilful in his art, and the husband of a Wife 
so beautiful that the sun seemed to borrow his 
brightness from her eyes ; and she was so pas- 
sionately beloved by her husband, that he was 
almost out of his wits when he was constrained 
to be absent but for a moment from her. This 
fine lady on her part was so crafty, that she had 
found the way to make her husband believe she 
loved him as dearly as he did her, and had no 
pleasure but in his company ; though at the same 
time she had several gallants that were not unac- 
ceptable to her. Among the rest there was a 
neighbour of hers, a young man well shaped and 
with a good face, who had won her affection to 
that deo-ree that she bescan to care for none of the 
rest. Upon which they became so jealous of him, 
that despairing of any good luck for themselves, 
in revenge, they gave the Joiner notice of his fa- 
miliarity with his Wife. The honest husband, 
however, was unwilling to believe any thing, un- 
less he were well assured ; and therefore, that he 



FABLE IX. 245 

might be certain of a truth which he was yet 
afraid to know, he pretended one day that he was 
to go a short journey ; and, taking some provi- 
sions with him, told his Wife that it was true he 
should not go very far, but his business he was 
afraid would keep him out two or three days ; 
and that it would be a great trouble to him to 
want her company so long; but that he must en- 
deavour to support himself under it with the 
thoughts of her goodness. His Wife paid him in 
the same coin, bemoaning the tediousness of his 
absence, and shedding an April shower of tears 
rather for joy than grief. The lady soon got 
ei^ery thing ready for her husband^s departure ; 
and he, the better to dissemble the matter, bade 
her be sure to keep the doors fast for fear of 
thieves. She, on the other side, promised to be 
very careful of every thing, and still put on a 
show of the deepest melancholy, for grief that he 
was to leave her. Her husband's back was no 
sooner turned, however, but she gave notice to 
her gallant to come to her, who kept his time to 
a minute. In short, he was there Jbefore the 
Jomer was well gone, and a world of happiness 
they were fondly promising themselves. But 
while they were dallying together the Joiner re- 
turned home, entered without being seen, and 
clapped himself into a corner to see how things 
went. 

The gallant now every moment most eagerly 

y2 



246 FABLE IX. 

caressed his mistress, who admitted his fondnesses 
with delight. In fine, they supped together, and 
then made themselves ready to go to bed. 

The Joiner, who till then had seen nothing 
that could perfectly convince him of his shame, 
stole softly toward the bed, intending to take 
them in the act ; but the Wife having now luckily 
observed him, whispered her lover in the ear that 
he should ask her which she loved best, him or 
her husband. Presently her gallant, with a loud 
voice, ^' Don't you love me, my dear," cried he, 
*' much better than your husband V *' Why do 
you ask me so foolish a question?*' answered the 
Wife. '* Know you not that women, when they 
seem to show any friendship to any other man 
but their husbands, only do it to satisfy their 
pleasure ; and when they are satisfied, never 
think of their pretended lover more? For my 
part, I assure you I idolize my husband ; I wear 
him always in my heart; and in my opinipn, in- 
deed, that woman is unworthy to live that loves 
not her husband better than herself.'* 

These words were some kind of cordial to the 
Joiner's spirits, who began now to blame himself 
for the bad opinion he had just before entertained 
of his Wife ; saying to himself, *^ The fault which 
she now commits must be imputed to my absence 
and the frailty of her sex. The chastest person 
in the world sins either in deed or intention ; and 
therefore, since she loves me so well, I cannot 



FABLE IX. 247 

but pardon her offence ; nor will I be so cruel 
to deprive her for a moment of her pleasure." 
After he had made these reflections, the cour- 
teous spouse retired to his corner, and let the two 
lovers wanton together all the rest of the night ; 
which they did not without some fear on the 
lady's side, who, when she saw no more of her 
husband, thought her eyes had deceived her, and 
ventured to bed, but was not however without 
some panics. 

After a night thus spent, the lover early in the 
morning arose and departed, and the Wife lay 
in bed counterfeiting herself asleep. When the 
husband, going to bed in his turn, fell to kissing 
and caressing her ; and the Wife opening her 
eyes, and dissembling astonishment, **Laud! my 
dear heart," said she to her husband, ** how long 
have you been returned ?" ** Why, I have been 
returned ever since last night,'* replied the Joiner; 
** but I was unwilling to disturb the young man 
that lay with you, because I perceived that you 
had me in your mind all the while you received 
his caresses, which you would never have ad- 
mitted, but that you thought me absent." Upon 
these kind words, the Wife frankly, and with a 
seeming openness of heart, confessed her fault, 
and begged him never to be absent again 

*'This example instructs us, sir, that we are 
not to be lulled asleep with fair words. Enemies, 



248 FABLE X. 

when they cannot obtain their ends by force, 
commonly have recourse to artifices, and humble 
themselves to deceive us." Here Carchenas cried 
out, *^0h ! you that are so zealous for my death, 
why do you not put an end at once to my days, 
but talk so many things to no purpose to increase 
my misery ? What probability is there of perfi- 
diousness in a person so wounded as I am? What 
madman would suffer so much torment to do good 
to another ? " ** It is in that very thing," rephed 
the Vizier, **that thy subtilty consists. The 
sweetness of revenge, which thou art meditating, 
makes thee patiently swallow the bitterness ot 
thy pains. Thou wouldst fain make thyself as 
famous as the Monkey that sacrificed his life to 
the safety of his country. 1 most humbly entreat 
the King to hear the story." 



THE MONKEYS AND THE BEARS. 

A GREAT number of Monkeys once, continued he, 
lived in a country well stored with all manner of 
fruit, and very delightful. It happened one day 
a Bear travelling that way by accident, and con- 
sidering the beauty of the residence and the sweet 
lives the Monkeys led, said to himself, ** It is not 
just nor reasonable that these little animals should 
live so happy, while I am forced to run through 



Fable x. 249 

forests and mountains in search of food." Full 
of indignation at this difference of fortune, be ran 
immediately among the Apes, and killed some of 
them for very madness : but they all fell upon 
him ; and in regard they were very numerous 
they soon made him all over wounds, so that he 
had much ado to make his escape. 

Thus punished for his rashness, he made what 
haste he could to escape ; and at length recover- 
ed a mountain within hearing of some of his com- 
rades; and no sooner saw himself there, but he 
set up so loud a roaring, that a great number of 
Bears immediately came about him, to whom he 
recounted what had befallen him. When they 
had heard his story out, instead of the emotions 
he expected to have found in them, they all 
laughed at him: *^Thou art a most wretched 
coward,'' cried they, '' to suffer thyself to be 
beaten by those little animals.'* " This is true, 
indeed," replied a leading Bear; ^* but, however, 
this affront is not to be endured ; it must be 
revenged for the honour of our nation." On this 
they soon concerted proper measures to annoy 
the enemy ; and toward the beginning of the 
night descended all from the mountain, and fell 
pell-mell upon the Monkeys, who were dreaming 
of nothing less than of such an invasion ; in short, 
they were all retired to their rest, when they were 
surrounded by the Bears, who killed a great 
number, the rest escaping in disorder. After 



250 FABLE X. 

this exploit, the Bears were so taken with this 
habitation, that they made choice of it for the 
place of their own settled abode. They set up 
for their king the Bear that had been so ill han- 
dled by the Monkeys ; and after that fell to ban- 
quet upon the provisions which the Monkeys had 
heaped together in their magazines. 

The next morning, by break of day, the 
King of the Monkeys, who knew nothing of this 
fatal calamity, (for he had been hunting for two 
days together,) met several Monkeys maimed, 
who gave him an account of what had passed the 
day before. The King, when he heard this dole- 
ful news, immediately began to weep and lament 
the vast treasure he had lost, accusing heaven of 
injustice, and fortune of inconstancy. In the 
midst of all his indignation and sorrow, his sub- 
jects also pressed him to take his revenge ; so that 
the poor King knew not which way to turn him- 
self. Now among the Monkeys that at that time 
attended on this Monarch, there was one called 
Maimon, who was one of the most crafty and 
most learned in the court, and was the King's 
chief favourite. This poor creature, seeing his 
master sad, and his companions in consternation, 
stood up, and addressing himself to the King : 
** Persons of wit and discretion," said he, " never 
abandon themselves to despair, which is a tree 
that bears but very bad fruit ; but patience, on 
the contrary, supplies us with a thousand inven- 



FABLE X. 251 

tions to rid ourselves out of the entanglements of 
trouble and adversity." 

The King, whom this discourse nad rendered 
much more easy in his mind, turning to Maimon 
on this, said, ** But how shall we do. Vizier, to 
bring ourselves off with honour from this ignomi- 
nious misfortune?" Maimon besought his Ma- 
jesty, on this, to allow him private audience ; and, 
after he had obtained it, he spoke to this effect : 

** Sir," said he, *' I conjure you by the dear 
hopes of a great revenge to hear me out with pa- 
tience. My heart is as much distracted, O my 
sacred master, for my private, if it be possible, 
as for the public misfortune : my wife and chil- 
dren have been massacred by these tyrants. Ima- 
gine then my grief, to see myself deprived for 
ever of those sweets which I enjoyed in the so- 
ciety of my family ; and hear me with patience 
and full belief, when I assure you I am resolved 
to die, that I may put an end to my sorrows: 
but my death shall not be idle ; no, I will find 
means to make it prove fatal to my royal master's 
enemies." '* O Maimon," said the King, ** con- 
sider we never desire to be revenged of our ene- 
mies, but with intent to procure to ourselves re- 
pose or satisfaction of mind ; but when you are 
dead, what signifies it to you whether the world 
be at war or in peace ?" *' Sir," replied Maimon, 
*'in the condition I am, life being unsupport. 
able to me, I sacrifice it with delight to the hap- 



252 FABLE X. 

piness of my companions. All the favour I beg 
of your Majesty, is only with gratitude and com- 
passion to remember my generosity when you 
shall be re-established in your dominions. What 
I have farther to ask of you is this, that you will 
immediately command my ears to be torn from 
my head, my teeth to be pulled out, and my feet 
to be cut off; and then let me be left for the night 
in a corner of the forest where we were lodged ; 
then retire you, Sir, with the remainder of your 
subjects, and remove two days' journey from 
hence, and on the third you may return to your 
palace ; for you shall hear no more of your ene- 
mies ; and may you for ever reap the blessings 
my death intends you." The King, though with 
great grief, caused Maimon's desires to be exe- 
cuted, and left him in the wood, where all night 
he made the most doleful lamentations that ever 
misery uttered. 

When day shone out, the King of the Bears, 
who had all night long heard Maimon's outcries, 
advanced to see what miserable creature had 
made the noise; and beholding the poor Monkey 
in that condition, he was moved with compass'on, 
notwithstanding his merciless humour, and asked 
him who he was, and who had used him after 
that barbarous manner. Maimon, judging by all 
appearances that he was the King of the Bears 
that spoke to him, after he had respectfully sa- 
luted him, expressed himself in the following 



FABLE X. 253 

words: *^ Sir," said he, ** I am the King of the 
Monkeys' chief Minister : I went some days ago 
hunting with him, and at our return, understand- 
ing the ravages which your Majesty's soldiers 
bad committed in our houses, he took me aside, 
and asked me what was his best course to take at 
such a juncture. I answered him, without any he- 
sitation, that we ought to put ourselves under your 
protection, that we might live at ease and unmo- 
lested. The King, ray master, tlien talked many 
ridiculous things of your Majesty, which was the 
reason that I took the boldness to tell him, that 
you were a most renowned prince, and beyond all 
comparison more potent than he ; which auda- 
ciousness of mine incensed him to that degree, 
that immediately he commanded me to be thus 
mangled, as you see me." 

Maimon had no sooner concluded his relation, 
than he let fall such a shower of tears, that the 
King of the Bears was mollified also, and could 
not forbear weeping himself. When this was a 
little over, he asked Maimon where the Monkeys 
were. " In a desert called Mardazmay," answered 
he, ** where they are raising a prodigious army, 
the whole place, for a thousand leagues extent, 
being inhabited by no other creatures but Mon- 
keys ; and there is no question to me but they 
will be with you in a very short time." The King 
of the Bears, not a little terrified at this news, 
asked Maimon, whom he thought suflficiently ex- 

z 



254 FABLE X. 

asperated against the Monkey government to 
make him his assured friend, what course he 
should take to secure himself from the enterprises 
of the Monkeys. " Face them boldly," replied 
Maimon : **your Majesty need not fear them; 
were not my legs broke, I would undertake, with 
one single troop of your forces, to destroy forty 
thousand of them.'' ** You advise me well,'' said 
the King, ** and, with your help, 1 doubt not but 
I shall destroy them. There is no question but 
you know all the avenues to their camp. You 
will oblige us for ever would you but conduct us 
thither ; and, be assured, we will revenge the 
barbarity committed upon your person." *' That, 
alas ! is impossible," replied Maimon ; ** because 
I can neither go nor stand." " There is a remedy 
for every thing," answered the King, *^and I will 
find an invention to carry you ;" and, at the 
same time, he gave orders to his army to be in 
readiness to march, and to put themselves in a 
condition to fight. They all readily obeyed the 
orders, and tied Maimon, who was to be their 
guide, upon the head of one of the biggest bears. 
Maimon now gloried in his mind that he had it 
in his power to revenge all that himself and his 
country had suffered ; and, in order to it, con- 
ducted them into the desert of Mardazmay , where 
there blew a poisonous wind, and where the heat 
was so vehement, that no creature could live an 
hour in it. Now when the Bears were entered 



FABLE X. "^'^^ 

into the borders of this dangerous desert, Mai- 
mon to engage them farther into it ; " Come," 
said he, " let us make haste and surprise these 
accursed wretches before day." With such exhor- 
tations he kept them on the march all night ; biit 
the next day they were astonished to find them- 
selves in so dismal a place. They not only suw 
not so much as the likeness of a Monkey, but 
they perceived that the sun had so heated the air 
that the very birds that flew over the desert feli 
down, as it were, roasted to death ; and the sand 
was so burning hot, that the Bears' feet were all 
burned to the bones. The King, on this, cried 
out to Maimon, *' Into what a desert hast thou 
brought U3 ; and what fierce whirlwinds are thesre 
which I see coming towards us?" On this the 
Monkey, finding they were all too far advanced 
for the least possibility of getting back, and theie- 
fore sure to perish, spoke boldly ; and, in answer 
to the King of the Bears, ^* Tyrant," said he, 
** know that we are in the desert of death ; the 
whirlwind that approaches us is death itself, which 
comes in a moment to punish thee for all thy 
cruelties." And, while he was thus speaking, the 
fiery whirlwind came and swept them all away. 

Two days after this the King of the Monkeys 
returned to his palace, as Maimon foretold him ; 
and, finding all his enemies gone, continued a 
long reign in peace over his subjects. 



256 FABLE X. 

" Your Majesty/' pursued the Vizier, '' sees, 
by this example, that there is no trusting to the 
alluring words of an enemy ; and, permit me to 
add, that he ought to perish that ^eeks the de- 
struction of others.'' This discourse, continued 
so positively, put the King of the Owls in a pas- 
sion, insomuch, that he cried to the chief Mi- 
nister, " Why all this stir to hinder this poor mi- 
serable creature from the proof of my clemency ?" 
And, at the same time, commanded iiis surgeons 
to dress Carchenas, and to take particular care 
of him. ^' You do not consider," added the King, 
" that yourself may one time fall into as great af- 
flictions as have now befallen him/' 

Carchenas was now dressed and taken care of by 
the King's own surgeon, who soon recovered him 
from his wounds. And when he was able to stir 
about he behaved himself so well, that in a little 
time he won the love of all the court. The King 
of the Owls confided absolutely in him, and began 
to do nothing without first consulting him. One 
day Carchenas, addressing himself to the King ; 
" Sir," said he, '' the King of the Ravens has 
abused me so unjustly, that I shall never die sa- 
tisfied unless I have first gratified my revenge. I 
have been a long time endeavouring to contrive 
the means, but find, as the result of all my stu- 
dies about it, that I never can compass it safely 
nor absolutely, so long as I wear the shape of a 



FABLE X. 257 

Raven. I have heard, I remember, persons of 
learning and experience say, that he who has 
been ill used by a tyrant, if he makes any wish 
by way of revenge, must, if he would have it suc- 
ceed, throw himself into the fire ; for that while 
he continues there, all his wishes will be heard. 
For this reason, I beseech your Majesty that I 
may be thrown into the fire, to the end, that in 
the middle of the flames, I may beg of Heaven to 
change me into an Owl. Perhaps Heaven will 
hear my prayer, and then, I doubt not, but I shall 
be able to revenge myself upon my enemy." 

The chief Minister, that had always spoken 
against Carchenas, was then in the assembly, and 
hearing this insinuating speech, '' O traitor," 
cried he, *' whither tends all this superfluous lan- 
guage ? Now do I full well know that thou art 
weaving mischief, though I cannot divine of what 
kind it should be; but the event, I know, will 
show it. Sir," added he, turning to the King, 
'* caress this wicked fellow as long as you please, 
he will never change his nature. Does not your 
Majesty remember that the Mouse was once me- 
tamorphosed into a Maid ; and yet she could not 
forbear wishing to have a Rat for her husband." 
'^ You love fables dearly, Vizier," said the King 
to him, '* and I will indulge you in your pleasure, 
and hear this willingly ; but I will not promise 
you to be a pin the better for it.'** 



z2 



258 fABLE XI. 



THE MOU^E THAT WAS CHANGED INTO A 
LITTLE GIRL. 

A PERSON of quality, continued the Vizier, once 
walking by the sidie of a fountain, saw a very 
beautiful little Mouse fall at his feet from the bill 
of a Raven, who had held it a little too carelessly. 
The Gentleman, out of pity, and pleased with its 
beauty, took it up, and carried it home ; but 
fearing it should cause disorder in the family, as 
the women are generally not very fond of these 
animals, he prayed to Heaven to change it into 
a Maid. The prayer came from the mouth of a 
person of so much piety and goodness, that it 
v^as heard, and what he requested was presently 
done ; so that, instead of a Mouse, of a sudden 
he saw before him a very pretty little Girl, whom 
he afterwards bred up. Some years after, the 
good Man seeing his foster-child big enough to be 
married, '* Choose out,^* said he to her, *'in the 
whole extent of this country, the creature that 
pleases thee best, and I will make him thy hus- 
band ; for I can give thee a fortune which will 
make anybody glad to offer his service to thee." 
*^If I may choose, sir, for myself in so important 
an affair,'* replied the Maid, *' let me acknow- 
ledge to you that I am very ambitious. I would/* 



FABLE XI. 259 

continued she, ** have a husband so strong, that 
he should never be vanquished." ** That must 
needs be the Sun/' replied the old Gentleman ; 
'* it is a strange desire, child ; but, however, thou 
shall not want my best offices in it : " and, there- 
fore, the next morning, said he to the Sun, *' My 
daughter desires an invincible husband ; will you 
marry her?" ** Alas I" answered the Sun, ** call 
not me invincible : yonder cloud enfeebles my 
beams ; address yourself to that.'' The good 
Man, on this, turned and made his compliment 
10 the Cloud, '' Alas !" said the Cloud, *' the 
Wind drives me as it pleases." The old Gentle- 
man, nothing discouraged, desired the Wind to 
marry his daughter. Eat the Wind, laying be- 
fore him thai his strength was stopped by such a 
mountain, he addressed himself to the Mountain. 
*'Ohi sir," said the Mountain, ''the Rat is 
stronger than I, for he pierces me on every side, 
and eats into my very bowels ;" whereupon the old 
Gentleman, in great sorrow of heart, went at length 
to the Rat, who liked very well the proposal, and 
immediately consented to marry his daughter, 
saying withal, that he had been a long time seek- 
ing out for a wife. The old Gentleman, on this, 
returning home, asked his daughter whether she 
would be contented to marry a Rat ? Now he ex- 
pected that she would have abhorred the thoughts 
of such a marriage ; but was amazed to see her 
out of patience to be united to this precious has- 



260 FABLE XI. 

band. Thereupon the old Man, with great sor- 
row, cried out, *' Nothing, I find, can alter na- 
ture/' In fine, he went to his prayers again, and 
desired the Heavens, that they would again turn 
his daughter into a Mouse, as she was before ; 
which they accordingly did, and put an end to 
his care. 

The King of the Owls heard this, and whatever 
else the Vizier had to say, with great patience; 
but, attributing all his remonstrances to jea- 
lousy of the Raven, took little notice of them. 
In the mean time, Carchenas, who was all this 
time a courtier and the principal favourite of the 
King, had an opportunity to observe all the com- 
ings and goings out of the Owls, and whatever 
else it might be of service to his country to know ; 
and when he had perfectly informed himself of 
every thing, he fairly left them, and returned to 
the Ravens. On his arrival in the Raven camp, 
he gave the King his master an account of every 
thing that had passed, and said, ** Now, sir, is 
the time for us to be revenged of our enemies; 
and what I have seen among them teaches me 
how it may be effected. In a certain mountain 
that I know of, and can in a day's march lead 
you to, there is a cave where all the nation of 
Owls meet every day. Now, as this mountain is 
environed with wood, your Majesty needs no more 
but to command your army to carry a great quan- 




The Serpent and the Frogs. 



Page 261. 



FABLE XII. 261 

tity of that wood to the mouth of the cave. 1 will 
be ready at hand to kindle the wood, and then let 
all the Ravens flutter round about to blow the fire 
into a flame. By this means, such Owls as shall 
venture out will be burned in the flames, and 
such as stay within shall be smothered ; and so 
shall your Majesty be delivered at once from all 
your enemies.'* 

The King highly approved the Raven's coun- 
sel, adored his courage and address in his adven- 
turous enterprise, by which he had learned this ; 
and ordering his whole army to set forward, they 
did as Carchenas had contrived, and by that 
means destroyed at one instant all the Owls of 
the neighbouring nation. 

By this example we may see, that sometimes 
submission to an enemy is requisite for the elud- 
ing of liis wicked designs; of which the Fable 
that follows is yet a further proof. 



THE SERPENT AND THE FROGS. 

A CERTAIN Serpent once became old and feeble, 
and no longer able to hunt abroad for his food. 
In this unfortunate condition, long he bewailed 
in solitude the infirmities or age, and wished 
in vain for the strength of his youthful years. 



262 



FABLE XII, 



Hunger at length, however, taught him, instead 
of his lamentations, a stratagem to get his liveli- 
hood. He virent slowly on to the brink of a ditch, 
m which there lived an infinite number of Frogs, 
that had just then elected a king to rule over 
them. Arrived at this scene of delight, the wily 
Serpent seemed to be very sad, and extremely 
sick ; upon which a Frog popped up his head, 
and asked him what he ailed. " I am ready to 
starve/' answered the Serpent : " formerly I lived 
upon the creatures of your species which I was 
able to take, but now I am so unfortunate that I 
cannot catch any thing to subsist on.'' The Frog, 
on this account, went and informed the King of 
the Serpent's condition, and his answer to the 
q.uestion he asked him. Upon which report, the 
King went himself to the place to look upon the 
Serpent, who seeing him, '^Sir," said he, " one 
day as I was going to snap a Frog by the foot, he 
got from me, and fled before me to a certain Der- 
vise's apartment, and there entered into a dark 
chamber, in which there lay a httle infant asleep 
At the same time I also entered in pursuit of my 
game, and feeling the child's foot, which I took 
for the Frog, I bit it in such a venomous manner 
that the infant immediately died. The Dervise 
on this, provoked by my boldness, pursued me 
with all his might; but not being able to over- 
laice me, he fell upon his knees, and begged of 
Heaven, for the punishment of my crime, that I 



FABLE XTI. 263 

might never be able to catch I'Yogs more, but that 
I might perish with hunger, unless their King 
gave me one or two in charity ; and, lastly, he 
added to his wishes, that I might be their slave 
and obey them. These prayers of the Dervise," 
continued the Serpent, *' were heard ; and I am 
now come, since it is the will of Heaven, to sub- 
mit myself to your laws, and obey your orders as 
long as I live." 

The King of the Frogs received his submissive 
enemy, with an acceptance of his services ; but, 
at the same time, it was with great disdain and 
swelling pride that he told him, with a haughty 
taunt, that he would not disobey the Heavens, 
but would make use of his service : and, ac- 
cordingly, the Serpent got into employment, and 
for some days carried the King upon his back : 
but, at length, ** Most potent Monarch,*' said he, 
**if you intend that I should serve you long, you 
must feed me, else I shall starve to death." 
" Thou sayest very true, honest Serpent," replied 
the King of the Frogs ; ** henceforward 1 allow 
thee to swallow two of my subjects a-day for thy 
subsistence." And this was all he had to wish 
for. Thus the Serpent, by submitting to his 
enemy, secured to himself, at his cost, a com- 
fortable subsistence during the remainder of his 
life. 

"To conclude, most sacred sir," said Pilpay, 



264 FABLE XII. 

** your Majesty sees, by these examples, that pa- 
tience is a noble virtue, and that it greatly con- 
duces to bring about vast designs. The wise 
men of old, sir, had sufficient reason to say, that 
prudence goes beyond strength ; and your Ma- 
jesty may see by what I have related, that a man 
by his wit may often redeem himself out of 
danger. But your Majesty is also to remember, 
that these examples often inform us that we are 
never to trust an enemy, whatever protestations 
of friendship he makes ; for in spite of all the 
fair speeches of the world, we ought to know that 
a Raven will be a Raven still. True friends only 
are, therefore, to be relied upon ; and the con- 
versation and familiarity of such alone can be 
truly beneficial to us/* 



THE END. 



